


White Collar: Animula

by Phoenix_crysg1



Series: Animula Series [1]
Category: White Collar
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Dark, Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, reverse slave, slave - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-21
Updated: 2016-04-13
Packaged: 2018-05-28 01:52:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 51
Words: 111,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6309643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phoenix_crysg1/pseuds/Phoenix_crysg1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>Title:</b> Animula<br/><b>Rating:</b> R (violence, abuse, no sex)<br/><b>Category:</b> angst, hurt/comfort,<br/><b>Setting:</b> Alternate Universe, ‘reverse’ slave.<br/><b>AKA:</b> This was originally posted under the pen name Tigeress79 on ffnet, and LJ, however that is me, I am Phoenix-Cry79 (LJ) and Phoenix-Cry (FFnet).<br/><b>Artwork:</b> http://tigeress79.livejournal.com/9913.html (link to my art on LJ for this story)<br/><b>Description:</b>  Neal enters a world of high stakes gambling and ends up with far more than he bargained for when he wins ownership of an Animula slave named Peter.  Suddenly after a life time of avoiding responsibility Neal finds a man’s life and future in his hands...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lov_pb](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lov_pb/gifts).



> Animula Background:
> 
> The following is kind of important to understanding the plot since the AU needs setting up: 
> 
> Okay, so here is some ‘sort of science’ to explain how the ‘sub-human’ species of Animula exist in this world. I was challenged to write a ‘reverse slave fic’ and I wanted this AU to have a reason for one group to be owning another and give the society as a whole a reason for acting as they do towards them. This is just a basic run down, more will be learned as the story progresses. 
> 
> Animula are caused by a double recessive sex linked genetic disorder (being sex linked means it only occurs in men due to one copy being on the 'Y' gene) Along with the 'Y' copy you also need a faulty X as well, meaning that both males and females can be carriers, but only males can express the Animual traits (two faulty X's just lead to a female being a double carrier but not Animula). This makes for an rare occurrence that would appear random since neither parent would show any of the traits. They are human, but they are not considered human by society. 
> 
> It's mostly found in those of Anglo decent although it can be found in any race/culture. Over the centuries Animula have been revered as conduits to the gods, reviled as warlocks, however they have always been accepted to be a soulless sub-human anomaly that has now become a slave race for the elite. Despite advances in genetic research no one has looked too carefully at Animula since the rich and the powerful are not interested in giving up their slaves and the general population doesn't often have much interaction with them (out of sight out of mind). Tests are done during pregnancy to identify any Animula who are bought by the Market before they are born and raised there, later to be auctioned to the highest bidder. Parents for the most part are not interested in keeping their souless children, nor could they afford to even if they wanted to since taxes on ownership are extraordinarily high. 
> 
> Genetically speaking it causes issues of the pineal gland (often referred to as 'the seat of the soul'), as children Animula do not engage or interact with their surrounds the same way normal children to, they do not cry, they do not form attachments. What they do develop is very strong left brain tenancies making them experts at numbers, patterns, and analytical thinking. At puberty hormonal changes allow them to develop normal human emotions and traits, but by that time they've already been labeled 'soulless' and it generally thought that their new found 'emotions' are a learned behaviour. The Market goes to extra lengths to ensure their stock develop as little of these learned behaviours as possible, but no system is perfect. Owning Animula is only for the exceedingly rich, and more often they are owned by companies instead of individuals, placed in positions where their talent for numbers can be used for financial gain. Most are treated relatively well, but the more owners they go through, the greater the chances of being generally mistreated, however all as generally shunned by society and have no rights. 
> 
> The one trait that instantly separates Animula visually from humans is the development of a metallic golden rings around the outside of the iris that spreads inward as they age. 
> 
> Neal in this AU is fairly ignorant about Animula and he will learn more as the reader does, as well as come to realize that ‘souless’ is a completely inaccurate description.

Animula 

 

Chapter One 

 

Drink in hand Neal looked out the floor to ceiling windows of an immense penthouse flat. The lights of the New York sky line were glittering against the pitch black of a moonless sky with all the beauty of true stars. It was close to one am, but the party was still in full swing and just starting to get interesting. Neal had been working for months on an invite to this particular get together. Far from a raucous crowd, this was a group of high society and even higher stakes gamblers who didn’t bother with trifling things as boring as money when they decided to play. 

To be invited to these tables you needed to bring something special, rare art, historical jewelry, political favors, and other items not typically for sale. The parities were held every other month so if he lost tonight at least his foot was in the door and it would be easier to get in on the next one. The beginning of the evening had began with elimination style gaming with five people to a table and dealer’s choice on the game. The ‘dealer’ was decided by a simple roll of the dice, highest roll total from a cast of three dice won the position. Since the dealer could choose any standard table game, card or tile, you could find yourself sitting down to Texas Hold’em, Pia Gow, Baccarat, or even Go Fish. A fundamental run down of the rules was given, but beyond that you were on your own. 

The winners of each table were then consolidated into a smaller amount of tables until there were only four players left that competed at the final main table with the fifth player being the party’s host. Out of the five elimination rounds that Neal had participated in tonight he’d only managed to win ‘dealer’ once. He’d chosen Three Card Brag since it heavily favored a good bluffer. He’d almost been eliminated at the last table which featured Chinese poker, which he wasn’t very familiar with. Once it had been down to him versus the dealer even he was surprised to find himself dealt a ‘Dragon’ hand. A rare card set of thirteen unique cards Ace through King that automatically won. 

The lucky Dragon hand had been a crowd pleaser. Since this was at its heart a social event there were half hour intermissions between each round with a forty-five minute pause before the last game. Neal had mingled during the previous intermissions, but now that he had made it into the final four he needed to truly focus. Taking his drink over to the large windows Neal had excused himself from the group he had been chatting with. As one of the final contestants his desire to be left alone was respected, no one would talk to him unless he spoke first. He sipped carefully at the hard liquor drink, he’d already had a bit too much to drink tonight but it was needed to keep up with appearances. Tonight was about fun and excess, most games ended in a round of toasts and shots, and any time his glass ran dry it was instantly refilled.

With his mind spinning slightly from the top shelf liquor Neal glanced over at the man he’d really come here to play, a business mogul named Fai Cheng. He wasn’t openly known as a Triad leader, but Neal had heard rumors. However the rumor that had interested Neal the most was about the rare Matisse painting that was now in Cheng’s possession. As the owner of the penthouse and tonight’s host Cheng was guaranteed a spot at the final table. 

Cheng had been the winner of the last session and so he also won the honor of hosting the next event. Cheng had actually won the Matisse at the last game which was when Neal had switched his focus from the original owner to Cheng. Along with the Matisse Cheng had won a jade and gold dragon from the Tang Dynasty, a non-Imperial Faberge egg, and perhaps oddest of all a night of passion with a young Baroness who had offered herself as her part of the wager. Of his winnings Neal was confident that the Matisse would be Cheng’s choice to risk parting with tonight. Neal had plans to steal it from the last owner until he’d discovered a way to just win it. 

Neal himself had brought along a very convincing forgery of a Degas that he had completed a few months back. He knew he risked possibly getting killed if the forgery didn’t pass when he’d entered it into the games, even if Cheng wasn’t Triad he was still powerful and not lightly crossed. However Neal had been confident that the pastel would pass inspection at the door and it had. The next step of winning the elimination rounds had been fairly simple and risk free. Everyone needed a high value object to enter the game, but only the final four actually placed that item in the ‘kitty’. 

All in all the event wasn’t taken very seriously by the elite party members. They lost far more money any time the stock market took a half point dip than losing at the final table. To blend in Neal was currently here under the guise of Nick Halden, who for tonight’s purposes was the son of a texas oil tycoon with more dollars than sense. If he played his cards right, figuratively and literally, he might just be able to gain another invite even if he didn’t win tonight. If he did win he’d be expected to host, he wasn’t sure how he’d pull that off, but he’d worry about that later.

Neal casually watched Cheng as the famously cutthroat businessman drank heavily and laughed with his guests. Cheng had poured far more money into this evening than he could ever hope to gain back even if he won. Of course hosting itself was a competition among this crowd, and from the looks of things Cheng was winning. Everyone seemed to be having a good time with one very noticeable exception. As a pure expression of his wealth Cheng had an Animula at his beck and call. Usually used for their keen insight into fiscal management this one seemed to be purely for show. 

Dressed in a finely cut tux standing behind Cheng the souless creature seemed completely disinterested in the opulent scene that surrounded him. He gave Neal the impression that he was barely holding on to consciousness, if he suddenly collapsed Neal wouldn’t be the least bit surprised. Staring blankly at nothing with his gold tainted eyes the only time he reacted was when Cheng called him by name to make a request of him. Neal had caught the Animula’s name earlier to be ‘Peter’, which he felt was a little mundane. He had always assumed that Animula would have more exotic sounding names, but he’d never actually known one by name. With the Animula population of New York being just over a thousand individuals Neal had only seen a handful of them.

When Cheng barked his name Peter would jolt slightly, snapping out of his trance and bringing his focusing to his Master’s needs. He answered all questions with as few words as possible before returning to his own world. He made no attempts to engage with anyone other than Cheng and even then only when addressed first. However from everything Neal had ever heard of Animula that was expected behavior. Born without the ability to form attachments they were intellect driven rather than emotional. Neal was no expert on the subject but everyone knew the basics of the souless anomaly known as Animula. 

Neal couldn’t hear what Cheng was talking about from his place by the window but he could tell that Cheng had called on his pet when the Animula suddenly jerked and gave him his attention. He listened to his Master before looking in Neal’s direction, revealing the odd gold rings around his irises that instantly identified his as an Animula. Stepping around the other party guests the Animula made his way over. The Animula moved very gingerly, carefully moving around the other guests. Neal took a nervous step back and bumped into the glass behind him as Peter approached him. Stopping a few feet in front of Neal he was breathing quickly as though the journey had taken significant effort. Peter cast his gaze down to avoid eye contact. It was the closest Neal had ever been to an Animula and he wasn’t quite sure what to expect. 

“Uh...” Neal said uncomfortably “hello.”

“Master Halden,” Peter greeted flatly “Master Cheng wishes to invite you to be dealer.”

“Isn’t there a roll to win ‘dealer’?”

“As tonight’s host Master Cheng has the privilege to decide and he has chosen you.”

“Okay.” Neal nodded. 

Peter didn’t reply, nor did he leave, even though he looked like the last thing in the world he wanted to do was remain standing here. Neal suddenly realized that the Animula might be waiting for some kind of release command. He hadn’t really expected to have to deal with an Animula tonight, they weren’t often brought to social functions since they tended to make people fell uncomfortable. Pretending to be part of the ‘one percent’ Neal suddenly realized that he would be expected to know how to interact with the slavish creature. He’d run cons on cooperation that owned Animula but they’d always been more out of sight out of mind. Cheng was one of the few who openly flaunted his ownership. He’d have to wing something and hope that it worked.

“Tell Mast...tell Mr. Cheng that I’m honored.” 

“May I tell him your choice of game, Master Halden?” Peter prompted.

“Ah right, well Texas Hold’em has a special place in my heart.” Neal replied laying his accent a little thicker. 

“I will inform Master Cheng.”

“Thank you.”

At hearing ‘thank you’ Peter suddenly brought his golden eyes up to meet Neal’s. A brief look of surprise followed by an even briefer look of suspicion played across the Animula’s previously stoic face. Peter took a breath to say something, but instantly thought better of it and dropped his gaze once more. After offering Neal a shallow bow with what looked like a wince of pain Peter retreated back to his Master. 

Of all the people Neal had spoken to tonight the Animula was the first one who had even started to suspect him of not being who he claimed to be. Just as with the forgery getting caught as a conman by Cheng could easily have life threatening consequences. Neal held his breath as Peter went to stand by Cheng. He expected the Animula to whisper his suspicions to his Master, but he just stood by and zoned out once again.

“I suppose obedience is not the same thing as loyalty...”


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Neal woke with a headache that was threatening to kill him. It felt like there were overly excited monkeys playing with metal marbles on a glass surface in his head. He had never really understood the phrase 'haze of pain' until he tried opening his eyes. Neal recalled drinking a bit too much at the gambling party, but he didn't think he'd had nearly enough to deserve this. He didn't even remember how he'd gotten home.

Realizing that there was a good chance he hadn't made it home Neal risked opening his eyes once more. Staring up at the familiar ceiling of his apartment he breathed a careful sigh of relief. Trying to piece together his memories from the previous night didn't provide much useful information. Making a mental note to never drink like that again Neal went to sit up to survey the full extent of the damage.

Pushing himself up to sit on the edge of the bed Neal looked up and found a stranger standing about fifteen feet away watching him. Yelping in surprise Neal scrambled back across the bed until he fell off the far side. Hitting the floor the room spun around him for a moment. He was starting to suspect that he got into something stronger than just alcohol the previous night. Quickly getting back to his feet he found the intruder still standing in the same spot. Neal relaxed slightly as he recognized the Animula, he was even still wearing the same tux from the party.

"Apologies, Master Halden, I didn't mean to startle you."

"I remember you, you're Cheng's Animula...Peter, right?"

"That's my name yes, but..."

"Just how much did I drink last night?" Neal lamented.

"More than you should have, Master Halden." Peter replied honestly.

"No kidding." Neal rubbed at his temple. "Thanks for...seeing me home or whatever, tell your Master I appreciate it but that it really wasn't necessary."

"You..." Peter hesitated. "You don't remember last night very well, do you?"

"I have to admit there are blanks. Something about those last few drinks just didn't set right. I never really drink hard liquor. I hope I didn't make a total ass of myself." Neal chuckled. "Who won the card game?"

"...you did."

"What?" Neal's already sour stomach twisted. "Please tell me Cheng sent you to deliver the Matisse."

"No."

"So you...uh..." Neal reached up and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"I was Cheng's entry in the game." Peter finished for him.

"That makes me your new Master?" Neal asked still not sure he was hearing this news right. "I'm sorry, it's just I was not expecting this."

"That makes two of us."

"I need coffee." Neal muttered to himself as he tried to figure out exactly how this had happened.

Somewhat on edge Neal jerked back when the Animula suddenly turned around. Peter stepped into the kitchen and began looking through the cabinets. Neal kind of felt like he'd woken up to find a bear in his house, the bear didn't seem to think anything was out of place as it rummaged about, but Neal had no idea how to react to the situation.

"What are you doing?" Neal asked.

"Making coffee."

"You don't have to do that. I meant it more as an expression."

"Master Hald..."

"My name isn't 'Halden'." Neal admitted. "It's Caffrey, Neal Caffery."

"Master Caffrey..."

"Can you hold that thought?"

Neal didn't wait for an answer. He was regretting his previous evening of drinking in every sense of the word. About to be violently sick he left the Animula in his kitchen and retreated into the bathroom.

Listening to Neal being sick in the bathroom Peter sighed, wincing in pain. With a heavy heart he looked around the small well decorated apartment with the New York skyline view. He hadn't really bothered to inspect his new surroundings last night, he hadn't even been hundred percent sure that Neal really lived here. The human had been cheerful, but barely coherent by the end of the night and he had given the taxi driver a few addresses before settling on this one. The front door hadn't been locked so Peter had just helped Neal up the stairs and into bed.

Exhausted from the long difficult day Peter had just risked laying down on Neal's couch for a few hours of much needed sleep. Always a light sleeper he had been woken when his new Master had started to stir and had gotten up so as not to be caught sleeping where he shouldn't be. Getting a new owner was always disorienting, but this was the first time that it had come as a shock to both him and his new Master. Peter had no idea what to expect and he hated that. Learning that Nick was actually Neal was a bad sign. Peter had already suspected Neal when he hadn't known how to treat him at Cheng's gambling party.

"You came to con Cheng, he conned you instead."

Closing his eyes Peter tried to ignore the pain throbbing across his shoulders that suddenly flared. Peter knew that his Market value was practically nothing at this point, but he still hadn't expected Cheng to just give him away. He wasn't sure if it had been a calculated move or if he'd just seen the opportunity and taken it. It didn't really matter either way, the past two years had been a nightmare and future didn't look much better.

"I hope you've gotten your life back together, Elizabeth." Peter sighed to himself. "Personally I think I've probably gone from the frying pan to the fire with this one. A con artist...although anything is better than being sent back to the Market."

Peter had developed the habit of talking to himself during his last run through the Market. Under normal circumstances at this stage in his life he should have been able to expect another ten to fifteen years working for an investment firm or something similar. However as his list of owners had grown longer and his resume had become increasingly complicated the risk of losing return on investment with him was too high to attract a good corporate owner, and he was getting too old to interest a good private buyer. His next return to the Market would most likely end up being a one way trip.

"I can't go back. I won't. I promised myself I wouldn't die there." Peter reminded himself. "Maybe if I..."

Peter stopped himself as he heard Neal turning off the running water in the bathroom just before returning to the living room. He pulled his shoulders back despite the flare of pain that it caused in an instinctive reaction to having a human enter the room. In his experience human expected Animula to hold a posture that gave the impression of standing at attention. Neal looked at Peter warily, it was clear that part of him had expected to return from the bathroom and find that the previous encounter had just been a hallucination or something equally imaginary.

"Sorry about that." Neal smiled nervously.

"No need to apologize." Peter said seriously.

"Right...um...this is a little awkward."

Peter wasn't sure how to react. He had been around plenty of human who were uncomfortable being near him, but he'd never had a true owner who didn't automatically just treat him like a subordinate or just treated him as though he was a breathing computer. Peter decided that the best action was none at all. His new Master would settle into the role quickly enough, it was human nature after all.

Suddenly being thrust into the position of 'owner' Neal wasn't finding any of this to be coming naturally. Although the more he thought about it the more he realized that there could be some real advantages to having an Animula around. In order to go after the really big fish you had to prove that you were one of them and only the rich and powerful brought Animula to meetings.

Just as he done the night before Peter's eyes lost their focus as he waited for Neal to address him. It was unsettling to see, but Neal assumed it was normal. He didn't often give much thought to the concept of his own soul, let alone the idea that someone could lack one. He wasn't sure what he thought of the commonly held belief about Animula, but he had to admit that there was something unnerving about the broken look in Peter's unnatural eyes.

"It's going to take me a while to get used to you, and vice versa I'm sure." Neal said. "I've never even met an Animula before you, let alone owned one."

"Then may I give you some advice, Master Caffrey?"

"Please call me Neal."

"My apologies. May I give you some advice, Master Neal?"

Neal was going to correct him again when he suddenly realized that he was probably asking too much of Peter to use his first name. As foreign as such subordination was to him it was probably part of how Peter interacted with humans. Neal waited for Peter to offer up his advice but he just stood silently. It took Neal a moment to realize that he hadn't officially given Peter permission to share his advice.

"I'd love to hear any advice you have. Like I said, I'm new to this."

"I am not." Peter assured. "There are four core rules to owning a Animula that ever Master needs to know and a fifth that is unspoken but is universally understood."

"I'm not really one for 'rules'." Neal chuckled. "However, I suppose I should at least hear them if we are going to make this work."

"Do not speak to me, unless you want something. Do not look at me, unless you are trying to get my attention. Do not listen to me, unless I'm saying something you want to hear. Do not touch me, unless your intention is to punish me."

"I don't have any intention of hurting you." Neal said quickly at hearing the fourth rule.

"I haven't reached this age by being disobedient so hopefully you won't have need to."

Neal doubted that he would dare strike his accidental acquisition even if he was blatantly disrespectful. Peter appeared submissive on the outside, but Neal still had the distinct impression that his obedience was only skin deep. Having given his advice Peter settled back into the slightly blank stare that he adopted when he was waiting for further orders.

"What's the last rule?" Neal asked. "The unspoken one."

"Do not mistake me for some one who could ever be your friend."

"Unless...?"

"Unless?" Peter repeated confused.

"All the other rules had an 'unless' of some sort attached to them."

"The fifth rule does not."

"No exceptions?"

"No exceptions."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

 

Peter stood over near the glass patio doors while Neal busied himself at a laptop computer. He assumed that Neal was looking up information on his kind, although all he really needed to do was ask. Peter had been offered a place at the kitchen table to sit near Neal but he was more comfortable standing as well as keeping his distance. He had failed to keep the distinct line between Animula and owner once and they were both paying the consequences of that now. With nothing better to do at the moment Peter became lost in thought as his mind drifted to the past.

Six years before Peter met Neal he followed his most recent owner down a richly decorated hall trying to determine what kind of man he was. Technically the high ranking manager wasn’t his owner, his registration was in the company’s name which dealt mostly in hedge fund and other investing management. This was the thirteenth company that he’d been sold to or in this particular case traded to. A corporate owner had its advantages since his ‘Master’ in this situation tended to just be middle management and had no real investment in him personally. That meant they didn’t see him as a personal reflection of their own status the way a private owner did. When the work day was done Peter was usually free to do whatever he wanted within reason, with a private owner he was ‘on the job’ twenty-four/seven.

The main disadvantage to this set up was that he was very much just another piece of office equipment and it didn’t take much to be sent back to auction or be tossed around during a merger. His last corporate manager that acted as his main Master also used to take out his frustrations with the stock market on him, expecting him to be able to predict the volatile market and punishing him severely when he failed to do so. Walking a few steps behind his new Master Peter was already nervous about this particular company since they had collared him instantly without even giving him a chance to prove his loyalty. 

The thin black band was hidden under the collar of his shirt and although it barely weighed anything Peter was constantly aware of its presence. It had been years since he’d last worn the device that had been developed after a high profile CEO had been murdered by an Animula. At least it was the Animula who had been blamed for the death, even among humans there had been doubts of his guilt. However it had been enough to scare the corporate culture. Twenty years ago every Animula wore one, thankfully as time passed it became less common again. Collars falling out of favor entirely couldn’t happen soon enough as far as Peter was concerned and he tried his hardest now not to scratch at it.

The manager who he knew only as ‘Master Renner’ that he’d been assigned to him hadn’t spoken to Peter yet, so he had no idea where he was going or what he was expected to do. They got to the end of the hall and Renner knocked on the door but he didn’t wait for an answer before stepping in. Hoping that he was meant to follow Peter did so and closed the door behind them. The large office held a breathtaking view of Manhattan, but Peter barely even noticed it. He had been taken by surprised by the woman behind the glass desk who had gotten to her feet to greet them both with a bright smile. Despite the supposed rise in the glass ceiling it still wasn’t often that Peter saw women in high corporate positions. 

“Mr. Renner, how are yo...”

“Elizabeth,” Renner interrupted in a hurry to move on “this is...uh...Paul.”

Peter rolled his gold tainted eyes slightly at Renner getting his name wrong. Elizabeth saw the quick look of frustration on Peter’s face and flashed an apologetically smile at him. Peter failed to hide his shock that she had even noticed the gesture let alone given him a sympathetic look. People almost never looked directly at him, and it was rarer still that they noticed any of the expressions that occasionally flirted across his features. She certainly noticed that he was looking at her now and when she smiled brightly at him once more Peter dropped his gaze to the floor, uncertain how to interpret her reaction to him. He decided that she hid her nervousness by smiling. 

“We just acquired him as part of the Walberg Corp merger.” Renner explained, not having noticed the exchange between the pair. “I thought he might be able to help you on your current project.”

“I’d certainly appreciate it.” Elizabeth said sounding genuine.

“Do you have any experience working with Animula?” Renner asked. 

“No, but I’m sure we’ll do just fine together.” Elizabeth assured as she stepped out from behind the glass desk.

“He’s collared so if he give you any trouble the passcode is...”

Peter’s eyes widened in fear that Renner was about to accidentally set off his collar. The ‘correction’ it produced only lasted seconds but it had never failed to drop him to his knees and it took hours to truly recover from it. He likened it to having molten sliver poured down his back and his nerves jangled irritably for nearly half a day afterward. 

“Mr. Renner,” Elizabeth interrupted quickly as she stepped closer to him “don’t say it out loud, you’ll set it off. He hasn’t done anything wrong.”

“Oh, right.” Renner shrugged. “Here...”

Renner reached over and grabbed a sticky note off the desk and scribbled the passcode on it. Snatching the paper away irritably Elizabeth folded it in half and put it in her pocket without reading it. Renner didn’t seem to care either way, he had other matters on his mind. He turned to Peter and snapped his fingers at him. Unsure of what the gesture meant Peter took a step closer and hoped for the best.

“Parker,” Renner addressed Peter “this is Mistress Mitchell, you do anything she asks.”

“Understood, Master Renner.” Peter replied respectfully. 

“Alright, Elizabeth, good luck with him.” Renner said as headed towards the door. “He has had more owners than a rented mule, so I don’t know if he’s worth anything. Let me know if he doesn’t work out I’m sure we can get something for him at auction.”

“I’m sure he’ll do just fine.”

Renner didn’t even hear Elizabeth’s last statement, he was already out the door. Elizabeth walked over and closed the door that Renner had left open before she turned her attention to Peter. Peter automatically pulled his shoulders back to stand slightly straighter as he slipped his hands behind his back and turned his gaze back to the floor. With her standing closer Peter could smell the slightly floral tint to her perfume, something about it caused his heart to race. He had been around plenty of human women before, but none of them had ever given him a second glance so it was easy to ignore them in return.

Far from ignoring him Elizabeth stood in front of Peter waiting for him to look up at her. She didn’t order him to look up, she just waited patiently until he risked glancing up at her. Once he looked up he found himself locked in her sky blue gaze. He almost never got a chance to look into someone else’s eyes since they tended to look away from his unnatural golden stain the second any mistaken eye contact was made. Elizabeth didn’t seem to have any difficulty looking at him and she smiled to encourage him not to turn away.

“I’m sorry about him.” Elizabeth apologized for Renner. “This must be a difficult adjustment for you.”

“Not at all.” Peter assured despite the fact that it was a blatant lie. Transferring ownership was always stressful and the collar was making this switch particularly stressful.

“You’re name isn’t ‘Paul’ or ‘Parker’ is it?” Elizabeth asked. 

“No, Mistress, it’s Peter.”

“Peter, I like that.” Elizabeth said warmly. “Don’t worry, Mr. Renner isn’t trying to change your name, he’s just too full of himself to bother to learn it. I’ll use your name correctly around him and he’ll catch onto it eventually.”

“Thank you, Mistress Mitchell.”

“I don’t suppose there is any chance of getting you to call me Elizabeth is there? I’ve never been very comfortable with the whole ‘Mistress’.”

“It wouldn’t be very proper.” Peter admitted. “However, ultimately the decision of what you wish me to call you is yours.”

“I don’t want to get you in any trouble. Would it be wrong of me to request that you use my first name when we are alone together?”

“Not at all...Elizabeth.” Peter hesitated to use her familiar name and found himself flushing after having done so.

Elizabeth blushed an attractive pink as well. He knew he wasn’t supposed to find her beautiful, but that didn’t seem to change the fact that she had an instant effect on him. If Elizabeth was nervous about being alone with him she certainly didn’t show it. She suddenly held her hand out to him. Peter had seen the traditional handshake between humans thousands of times before, but no one had ever offered him their hand before. Uncomfortable with the idea of accepting the offer Peter kept his hands behind his back, he was already over stepping his bounds using her first name. Elizabeth smiled sadly and took a step back to keep from pressuring him. 

“I suppose we should get to work.” Elizabeth suggested.

“I would like that.”

“What is your specialty?”

“Financial Forensics, but I can learn anything that you need me to.”

“I bet you can.” Elizabeth nodded. “For what it’s worth, welcome to the company, Peter.” 

“I feel very welcome so far.”


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

 

“This is no help at all.” 

Muttering in frustration Neal glanced up from the laptop at Peter who had spent the past two hours standing perfectly still like he was guarding Buckingham Palace. Looking at the unfocused look in the Animula’s eyes Neal could see why they were assumed to be soulless. Peter appeared completely disconnected with his surroundings as he stared at nothing. It was disconcerting to have him standing in the room looking like a breathing statue. 

There was some information on the history and lore of Animula from ancient times when they were often revered as conduits to the gods, to their persecution during the Dark Ages, right up until about the Industrial Revolution where they were prized for their math skills as businesses boomed. Through out everything the only constant was the idea that they had no identities of their own. As babies they never cried, as children they never learned to play or form any kind of attachment. Since their golden rings around their irises didn’t develop until puberty one of the early tests for being Animula was to pull them away from their mothers to gauge if there was any reaction. 

Modern day information was nearly impossible to find. Once the Animula proved themselves to be highly profitable commodities very little research into the phenomenon was done. There was an in utero test for Animula, but no information as to how it worked. It was the Market that offered the testing and the information was mostly geared towards explaining the benefits of selling off the ‘defective conception’ rather than seeking abortion. The most detail Neal found was an article from the sixties postulating that the apparent personalities and emotions that developed in their teen years was a ‘learned behavior’, much the way you could teach a parrot to speak. 

There was nothing that Neal could find on how to best care for or treat Animula. They were praised for being docile and obedient, but at the same time there were specially designed collars that you purchase for ‘added security’. The Market site offered private instruction to new owners at time of sale or when registering a new acquisition if they were bought ‘off Market’. Neal knew already that all Animula needed to be registered with their current owners, something he was already trying to figure out a way around. The last thing he needed was letting the government know he sudden had an extraordinarily expensive creature living in his house. 

Most of the other information Neal could find was geared towards areas that Animula excelled in and their businesses uses. With a mind for logic and an eye for patterns they had a talent for stock selection, financial management, commodity predictions, investments, and detecting fraud. Each Animula had their own strengths and weaknesses in these fields, but an almost instinctual understanding and talent for math appeared to be universal among them. 

“Peter.” Neal called. 

Neal got the same reaction that Cheng did, Peter jolted slightly before he focused his attention on him. It seemed to take him a little longer to snap out of his trance than it had with Cheng. He still gave Neal the impression that it took all his energy just to remain standing. He had offered Peter a seat but he had made it clear that he would rather stand.

“Yes, Master Neal?”

“Just ‘Neal’.” He pressed, he really didn’t like the ‘master’ title. “What’s 3,825 times 3?”

“11,475.” Peter replied instantly.

“Divided by 5?”

“2,295.” 

“Nearest whole number square root?” Neal asked trying something harder. 

“48.”

“That’s amazing.” Neal smiled. 

“It’s nothing a calculator can’t do.”

“Just because a machine can do something doesn’t mean it isn’t still impressive when a human does it.”

“I’m not human.”

“Right, sorry.” 

“Besides, you didn’t check my answers.” Peter added. “For all you know I could be wrong or just lying.”

“Are you?”

“No.”

“Good enough for me.” Neal chuckled. “I don’t plan to keep you around as a calculator anyway.”

“What are your...intentions?” Peter asked carefully. 

“Intention?” 

“How are you going to use me?” Peter clarified. “You are not the typical private owner and I assume you don’t own a company.”

“I don’t even have a job.” Neal said proudly. “Who is a ‘typical private owner’?”

“Men with more money than they know what to do with.” Peter replied with a slight dark edge to his tone.

“Was Cheng ‘typical’? He didn’t seem to be using you for financial advice, and you did nothing to protect him from me when you suspected that I was running a con.”

“It wasn’t my place to protect him.”

“Really? I would think that would be exactly the kind of thing Cheng would have wanted from you. Did you want to get away from hi...”

Neal was interrupted as there was a quick knock at the door. He assumed that it was Mozzie, he was really the only one who even knew where he lived. Neal called out to let Mozzie know he could come in, but when Mozzie tested the door it was locked. Neal was about to get to his feet to unlock it, but Peter was already headed towards the door. Neal smiled to himself as he let Peter answer the door, he hadn’t told Mozzie about the new addition. 

Peter opened the door, stepping to the side as he did so to allow Neal’s guest to enter unchallenged. Mozzie walked inside without even questioning how the door opened and went straight to the kitchen table where Neal was sitting, although it quickly became clear that it was the open bottle of red on the table that had captured his attention. Neal just waited with an amused expression while he waited for Mozzie to figure out they weren’t alone.

“Since when do you lock...” Mozzie stopped as he realized that it couldn’t have been Neal who unlocked the door. 

Mozzie turned around to look at Peter who was closing the door and locking it once more. Mozzie’s breath hissed across his teeth when Peter turned around and revealed his gold stained eyes. Neal motioned for Peter to step closer. Peter did as asked but when he was about five feet away he stopped when Mozzie took a frightened step back. Closing his eyes briefly Peter looked once again like he might pass out, Neal was about to ask him if he was feeling well when Mozzie turned an accusing glare on him.

“Neal, what the hell is going on?” Mozzie demanded. “What is he doing here?”

“Mozzie this is Peter. He’s an...”

“I know what he is, Neal.” Mozzie interrupted sharply. “The question is what is he doing here?”

“I sort of won him.” 

“This was winning?” Mozzie asked rhetorically. “What have you gotten yourself into this time?”

“Moz...”

“No, I don’t even what to know. This is a very bad idea, Neal.” 

“My feelings exactly.” Peter muttered under his breath. 

“Did you just talk back to me?” Mozzie asked surprised. “Neal, this is insa...”

“Calm down, Mozzie.” Neal said he got to his feet, this meeting was not going as he thought it would. 

Unaffected by Mozzie’s negative reaction to him Peter just got that far away look in his golden eyes that Neal hated to see. Neal wasn’t even entirely sure why it bothered him, but there was just something so heartbreaking about the way he would just zone out. Reminding himself of Peter’s nature Neal told himself again that he couldn’t compare Peter’s behavior to his own. He had said it himself, he wasn’t human so didn’t think like a human and he couldn’t be expected to act or react like one. Neal was surprised by how strongly Mozzie was reacting to him.

“Neal, you don’t want to have anything to do with Animula, he will be nothing but trouble.”

“Have you met one before?”

“A long time ago.” Mozzie responded cryptically. “They can’t be trusted, Neal. You need to get rid of him.”

“No way.” Neal shook his head. “This is an perfect opportunity, we can finally get in close to the big fish with him. Peter is an instant boost to our credibility.”

“He’s a white elephant.” Mozzie countered. 

“He’s a powerful status symbol.”

“I don’t care, I don’t like it.” Mozzie pressed. “He’s going to be an expensive pet if your little scheme doesn’t pay off.”

“Your friend is right, Master Neal.” Peter suddenly entered the conversation. “Not to over step my bounds, but can you even afford the taxes on me?” 

“Taxes. That’s cute.” Mozzie mocked before turning back to Neal. “He’s funny, I wasn’t expecting him to be funny.”

“Wait...you...you’re not even going to register me?” Peter asked anxiously. He may have appeared disinterested in the conversation before, but he was fully paying attention now. “Master Neal, you have to transfer me into your name.”

“No can do.” Neal replied. “That would open me up to all sorts of IRS scrutiny, plus I probably can’t afford your taxes.”

“I could report you for this, it’s illegal to keep Animula without registering them with the National Board within three days of purchase. The penalty is four years in prison and a hundred thousand in fines.”

Neal was a little surprised to hear a threat from Peter and didn’t react immediately. 

“Go ahead and report us.” Mozzie retorted icily. “Good luck on the auction block after you do, Old Man.” 

Peter shot Mozzie a look that caused Mozzie to take a step back fearfully. For a second Neal was afraid that he was going to have to step in and physically stop Peter from attacking his friend. Neal was starting to wonder if he needed to corrected Peter’s somewhat subversive behavior in some way, but he had no idea where to even start. He didn’t feel that physical correction would help the situation any, and from what he understood of Animula it really shouldn’t be needed. However despite his efforts this morning to educate himself Neal had to admit that he still knew very little of Animula.

Neal was at a bit of a loss because he hadn’t expected Peter to have anything that even resembled fight in him. Everything he’d been told before and read this morning stated that Animula were naturally docile, and willing servants that had little interest in their own futures, but he wasn’t seeing any of that in Peter right now. There was something just below the surface in him that kept threaten to break through. Neal started to worry that it was because he wasn’t a strong enough Master to make Peter feel comfortable. He probably needed more structure and rules to relax. Before Neal could decide how he should react Peter sighed heavily and returned to looking sightlessly down at the floor again. 

Neal was just noticing how labored Peter’s breathing was when Mozzie stepped up and took him by the elbow. Mozzie pulled Neal to the far side of the apartment and reduced his voice to a whisper. Neal was fairly certain that Peter could still hear them, but he didn’t look interested anymore. Looking more carefully at him Neal thought that Peter suddenly looked a little paler as he stood motionless except for the shallow rise and fall of his chest. Mozzie distracted Neal once again by tugging on his arm to get his attention. 

“Neal, you have got to get rid of him, he’s dangerous.” Mozzie hissed.

“What? No he isn’t. He just needs to adjust, this has to be stressful for him, but he isn’t going to hurt me.”

“He will if you don’t prove to him that you’re willing to hurt him first.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Even if he was as dangerous as you seem to think adding a fear of pain to the situation isn’t going to help. He’ll settle in once we give him a job to do, he just needs a task to focus on.”

“Neal, wake up, Animula don’t behave because they want to, they do it because they have to. They are only kept by the elite and big companies because they are the only ones who can control them.”

“Mozz...”

“Trust me on this, if you are going to insist on keep him, put a collar on your dog before he murders you in your sleep.”


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

 

Sitting at the kitchen table Peter stared sightlessly at the lap top computer screen in front of him. There was a plate with an untouched sandwich sitting next to him. Neal had offered it to him for lunch, but he wasn’t hungry. In fact he worried that anything he tried to eat wouldn’t stay down. It was only half way through the first day with his new owner but the pain across his shoulders was already getting increasingly difficult to hide. Peter had been considering telling Neal about his issue when Cheng’s name and ownership had come up. However he’d been distracted when Mozzie had arrived. After having met Neal’s short, distrusting friend Peter hadn’t dared admit to having a weakness.

Peter glanced over at Neal who was stretched out on the couch reading a book. He wondered what it was that the unemployed con man did with most of his time. Along with Peter he had won a Ming dynasty vase and a 1867 Naval Remington pistol with a Civil War General’s name engraved on it. Neal had given the items to Mozzie to sell and they would probably fetch a price that would allow them to live comfortably for a few months, but after that he’d have to run another scam. In the tale of The Ant and The Grasshopper Neal was without question a grasshopper.

Neal had given Peter a task of going through some company prospectus for future stock selections. Peter doubted that Neal was truly interested in investing any of his ill begotten funds, he was most likely just trying to prove to his friend that all Peter needed to settle in was a job to do. If it would keep Neal from thinking he needed to use a collar Peter would gladly pointlessly sift through information on random companies for the rest of his life.

Feeling a chill that he feared was the start of a fever Peter tried once more to focus on the task he’d been charge with. His thoughts drifted back to the first time he’d had trouble concentrating. It was a day forever stamped into his memory, since it was among his first clear memories. Something had gone wrong with him at a very young age, he wasn’t sure exactly what it had been or why it had happened to him and not the others, all he knew was that it had branded him for life.

Ten years old Peter scrolled through the days lesson on his computer. Usually he had perfect focus, but lately he had been finding himself becoming distracted. He looked around at the other boys in his cohort, but none of them seemed to be struggling like he was. Not particularly interested in the paper on complex supply and demand theory that he was supposed to be reading Peter turned to look out the window. The window had always been there, but it had never really interested him. There wasn’t much of a view, just the mirrored windows of the next skyscraper over. However studying the reflection in the shinny building Peter could make out the distorted image of part of the city.

Peter had learned some about the world outside the Market, but all he really knew was facts and figures about it. He’d never really thought about what it was like out there. The Master at the front of the class room looked up from the magazine he as reading and cleared his throat when he noticed that Peter wasn’t paying attention and Peter instantly drew his eyes back to his work. It was another few long hours before the teacher announced that the day was over and that they were dismissed.

There were fifteen other Animula his age that he spent all of his time with, but couldn’t tell one of them from the other. He’d never had any interest in talking to any of them and they had never shown any interest in him or each other. While they were filing out of the room to go to dinner a boy ahead of him in line suddenly tripped and landed on the floor. Two of the other boys walked past him, and Peter was about to do the same but at the last minute he stopped and reached down to help him back up.

“Are you okay?” Peter asked.

“Fine.” The boy answered simply and left.

Thinking nothing of the encounter Peter went to leave as well.

“Peter.” Thompson called. “Come here.”

Peter hesitated to follow the order, something he’d never even thought to do before. When his Master took a breath to repeat himself Peter hurried over before he had to be told twice. Kneeling down in front of the teacher Peter kept his eyes on the floor. He hadn’t been taught to avoid eye contact, it just came naturally to him, however this time he found himself wanting to glance up even though he didn’t act on the impulse.

“Yes, Master?” Peter asked respectfully.

“Why did you help Alan to his feet?”

“His name is Alan?” Peter asked, wondering why he’d never bothered to learn it before.

“Yes. Why did you help him?”

“He fell.”

“I can see that, but why did you help him?” Thompson pressed.

“I...” Peter paused realizing that he didn’t really know why. “I guess it just felt like the right thing to do.”

“Are you getting bored with your studies?”

“...yes, Master.” Peter admitted reluctantly.

“Look up at me.”

Peter was slow to look up, his stomach was feeling weird, like there was something fluttering around inside it. The off feeling had been happening on and off for a few weeks but he hadn’t thought to mention it. Looking up into Thompson’s blue eyes with his own deep brown ones Peter smiled at the unfamiliar sensation of eye contact, he’d never experienced the silent communication that it produced before. Like waking up from a dream he was slowly starting to see everything around him differently. He also noticed the concern on Thompson’s face, he found himself feeling a little proud that he had found meaning in the man’s expression, it was a talent that had always eluded him.

“What’s wrong, Master?”

“What’s wrong is the fact that you notice something is wrong. You are much too young to be imprinting.” Thompson replied seriously.

“Imprinting?”

“Take your shirt off.” Thompson ordered rather than answered.

With no reason not to comply Peter pulled off his plain white shirt. Thompson took a hold of Peter’s wrist and raised his arm up high. Thompson inspected under his arm and swore under his breath when he noticed a fine amount of dark hair beginning to grow in Peter’s arm pit signifying an early onset puberty. Thompson instructed him to put his shirt back on. Becoming increasingly frightened, which was feeding off itself since it wasn’t something he was familiar with, Peter crawled back into his shirt as he started to tremble.

“Am I falling ill?” Peter asked quietly.

“Not exactly.” Thompson sighed. “Come on, get up. Follow me.”

Peter nodded and got to his feet. Thompson lead him down the hall and towards the elevator. It was rare for him to ever leave the floor that he’d grown up on and he found himself excited to see what else was in the building even though he’d never been curious about it before. They went down a few floors before the doors opened. Going down a long hallway they came to a door that Thompson knocked on and waited for an invitation before opening the door and stepping in. Peter looked around at the well decorated office in awe. There was an older man he’d never seen before sitting behind a well polished wooden desk.

“Frank.” Simmons greeted Thompson by his first name. “What’s going on?”

“One of the ten years is imprinting.”

“What? Are you sure? He’s much too young for that.”

“I’m telling you, he’s going to go gold any day now.”

“Great.” Simmons growled. “What are his study scores?”

“Among the highest in the class. In fact I’ve already started economics with him.”

Peter didn’t have any idea what the humans were talking about, but he didn’t like their tone. Suddenly feeling a sharp twisting in his stomach Peter hugged his arms over the mysterious pain.

“Peter?” Thompson asked. “Are you alright?”

“My stomach hurts.” Peter admitted.

“See? He’s further along than I thought, he’s already developing anxiety.”

“Have I done something wrong?” Peter asked as his heart started to race as adrenaline poured into his blood for the first time.

“Damn it.” Simmons growled ignoring Peter’s question. “Alright, send him down to Richards in Iso.”

“Isn’t it too late for that?”

“It certainly isn’t ideal, but we’ve already invested several hundred thousand into him. I’m not just going to euthanize him on the off chance that we’ve missed the window.”

“He’s going to end up insane, at the very least he’ll be defiant.”

“At first he’ll be trouble, but don’t worry, I’ve seen this happen a few times, a strong owner or two will break him in and he’ll be just like rest.”

“I hope you’re right...for his sake.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there is admittedly an awful lot of 'flash backs' in this story that kind of interrupt the traditional narrative. With an AU it's not easy to seamlessly introduce new pasts and destinies...so I thought I'd go with the 'Christopher Nolan' method. Some back and forth, past and present, somewhat out of order. It's a different style, but I'm going to go with it and hopefully it works. Once we get a better base for Peter's past (Neal's isn't nearly as changed obviously) then I'll get more into a traditional story arc.

Chapter Six

 

“What about this company?” Elizabeth asked holding up a file. “Looks like they haven’t been having a good year, might be a good time to step in and acquire them.”

“No.” Peter shook his head. “They are only acting weak. I found several discrepancies in their books that suggest that they are hiding how well they are doing. They probably started hiding profits to save on taxes, but now they see an opportunity to get in with a larger company and then what starts off as an acquisition might just turn into them attempting a hostile take over.”

“Clever.” Elizabeth said with a hint of admiration. “I would have never seen that, you really are good at this.”

“Thank you. If you want a company to invest in this one is a strong candidate.” Peter picked up one of the folders off the desk and offered it to Elizabeth. “They aren’t as flashy as the other candidates, but they have the potential to be a much more solid investment long term.”

“Flashy is over rated anyway.” Elizabeth chuckled.

Elizabeth took the file on the company and brushed against Peter’s hand as she did so. They had been working together for over a month and he’d become more comfortable with the idea, but he still found that his heart jump any time they made casual contact. Elizabeth had noticed the way he froze momentarily any time she touched his skin. She wished that he could relax around her a little better, but she had to admit that part of her enjoyed the fact that something as simple as her touch could enthrall him, even if it was only for a second. While they were working quietly she often caught him watching her, but at the same time he caught her watching him just as frequently.

Reading the file Elizabeth’s stomach suddenly growled at her. She glanced up at the clock and noticed that it was nearly two in the afternoon. The once all too long work day had become far too short now that Peter was there. Elizabeth didn't look forward to the end of the work day when she went to a house that was empty except for her dog. More and more she was going home only to sit around and count the hours before she could come back into the office. No matter how early she came in Peter was always standing outside of her office door waiting for her. She was pulling almost twenty extra hours a week at work now, but it didn’t bother her in the slightest.

“We should break for lunch,” Elizabeth suggested “I know this wonderful Italian place just a few blocks over.”

Peter just nodded. Elizabeth got up from the desk and stretched out her back. She had gotten a chair for Peter for the far side of her desk, although it had taken him nearly two weeks to get used to the idea of being seated while she was present. It was usually expected that Animula stood while around their owners in order to be at the ready for any orders. He always got to his feet whenever she did and now was no exception. Elizabeth headed towards the door, expecting Peter to follow her but he just stood at the desk watching her leave.

“Peter? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Aren’t you coming with me?”

“Elizabeth, you...you do realize I’m not welcome in a public restaurant, right?”

“I’m so sorry,” Elizabeth flushed as she walked back over to Peter “I forget you are Animula so easily.”

“It’s okay, I keep forgetting you’re human.” Peter said without thinking, instantly regretting his words. “I...I’m so sorry, Mistress Mitchell.”

Elizabeth found it almost physically painful to hear Peter calling her ‘Mistress Mitchell’ again after a month of them getting closer. She cherished the rare moments when he actually smiled or laughed. Not understanding why he'd suddenly fallen back on old habits she stepped closer in concern. Looking fearful of her Peter took a step back and averted his eyes away from her.

“It’s okay, Peter...”

“It really isn’t.” Peter insisted. “I didn’t mean to insult you.”

“Insult me?” Elizabeth asked confused.

“I didn't mean to suggest that you are anything like me.”

“I don’t think I’m like you,” Elizabeth said gently “I think you’re like me.”

Shocked by her words Peter automatically looked up at her. Taking a chance Elizabeth stepped closer hoping that he wouldn’t just draw further away. When he didn’t move she brought her hand up to touch him. She hesitated for a moment before she rested her hand against his cheek. Peter’s heart was pounding in his ears from the intimate contact to the point of making him slightly dizzy. He knew he should pull away from her but he was pinned to the spot.

“No one can tell me that you don’t have a soul, not even you could convince me of it.” Elizabeth smiled brightly. “I can see it, and I feel sorry for anyone who can’t, because it’s beautiful.”

Elizabeth stared up at Peter almost daring him to contradict her. They remained motionless for a moment until Elizabeth took her hand off his cheek and rested it against his chest over his heart. In the most dangerous move he’d made in his entire life Peter suddenly closed the small space that separated them by leaning down and capturing her lower lip in a tentative kiss. When she didn’t instantly pull away Peter became more passionate about the kiss and Elizabeth returned it in kind. He slipped his hand down to her lower back and drew her warm body closer. When his better judgment finally caught up with his actions Peter broke off the kiss and released her as he quickly took a step back.

“Peter...”

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that.” Peter sighed. “At the same time I don’t regret it. You can send me back to the Market right now, I don’t care. It was worth it.”

“Send you back? Never...”


	7. Chapter 7

Laying on the couch Neal was having a hard time focusing on the book he was trying to read. He’d basically given up on it, but every so often he would turn the page to make it look like he was making progress. He was waiting on Mozzie to bring him some equipment and having set Peter to work he felt like he should at least appear busy himself. Usually if he had nothing better to do he’d go out for a run or seek out some small con to run on the street. However he wasn’t entirely comfortable with leaving Peter alone just yet.

Neal turned away from his book to glance over at the Animula. Peter looked comically out of place sitting at the table in his tuxedo that he was still wearing from the previous night. He had come with a pair of suitcases with a small wardrobe which Neal had moved across the hall into the guest suite for him. He figured that settling into the new space would give Peter something productive to do tonight, but for now Neal saw no harm in letting him stay in the formal wear. He hadn’t sent Peter over there directly because he wanted to keep an eye on him for at least their first day together.

For now he had given Peter some companies to research for him thinking that it would help him relax. While Neal had been trying to research Animula Peter had just zoned out, looking bored. Watching him now he didn’t look all that much better. Neal didn’t know enough about Animula to know if his disinterested stare was normal, but he found it disconcerting. If he truly was ‘soulless’ Neal guessed that it would make sense that he’d have a blunted affect.

However even over the very short time span that he’d known Peter he’d witnessed several times when he’d reacted emotionally. At the very least he appeared to have a concept of fear, anger, and possibly even pride. At the same time it was difficult to imagine a creature that couldn’t love its own mother being capable of loving anything else. Although despite some of the awkwardness between them Neal found that he genuinely enjoyed Peter's quiet company.

Spending most of his time conning everyone around him didn’t exactly lead to many friends or long term relationships. Mozzie was really the only one he could be himself around. Of course a little of Mozzie’s company went a long way, and not always in a good way. Not feeling he could be truthful to people about what he was had isolated Neal from a lot of the social interactions that most people took for granted.

Starting to feel guilty for having Peter just doing busy work Neal put his book down and got to his feet. Peter had been staring sightlessly at the laptop screen but as soon as Neal moved he was on high alert again. He reached out and typed something, probably to deactivate the screen saver. When Neal walked over towards the kitchen table Peter instantly got to his feet, keeping his hands lightly on the table as if to steady himself.

“You don’t have to stand up.” Neal assured. He noticed the untouched lunch on the table. “You haven’t eaten anything. Can I get you something else?”

“No thank you, Master Neal.” Peter replied as he kept his eyes down cast. “I’m not very hungry.”

“Are you feeling, okay?”

“I’m fine. I haven’t gotten much work done. I apologize, it’s been a while since I’ve done anything other than simple book keeping.”

“You kept Cheng’s books?”

“Some of them.”

“What’s he worth?”

“I have to advise you against trying to con Cheng again, he is not a man you want to have as an enemy.”

“I’m just curious. I’m going to have to invite him to the game in two months, I just like to know what I’m dealing with.”

“You are going to host a game?” Peter asked doubtfully as he glanced around the small apartment.

“I won the right to, or rather the responsibility to. Not sure how I’ll pull it off, but I’ll think of something. I always do.”

Neal smiled, hoping that Peter would do the same. Remaining stoic Peter said nothing he just waited. Neal was starting to fear that he wasn’t handling Peter properly. He knew that in the case of dogs that often times if they didn’t have owners that were strong ‘alphas’ that they could end up all sort of behavioral problems from aggression to separation anxiety. They depended on a leader to give them direction to keep them happy, perhaps Animula were the same.

“Talking about the game gives me an idea. Stop looking into the companies as investments, start looking into owners. Make me a list of potential guests. Find CEOs that take risks, or anyone rich and eccentric enough that might make good additions to the table. Is that something you can do?”

“Yes, Master Neal.”

“Good. Do it.” Neal ordered.

Peter nodded and turned his attention back to the computer. Neal backed away from the table so that Peter would sit back down. Having been given a job that had obvious applications seemed to help his focus. Neal realized that Peter had probably known from the start that he had no intention of investing in any of the companies he’d been given to research. Pointless busy work wasn’t going to keep him engaged, he was too intelligent for that. Neal was starting to feel a little more confident that he could make this work when there was a knock at the door.

“Neal?” Mozzie called through the locked door. “Neal, you still alive in there?”

“Mozzie.” Neal sighed in frustration. “I’ll get it.”

Peter had turned towards the door but Neal stopped him to answer it himself. Opening the door Neal glared down at Mozzie. He stood in the door frame to prevent him from stepping inside, the last thing he needed right now was him undermining his attempts at peaceful authority over Peter by suggesting a collar again. Neal had noticed how tense Peter had become the first time Mozzie had mentioned the device. He had briefly looked into the collars and although the Market site that sold them claimed that they were humane they sounded like torture to Neal. He couldn’t even imagine wearing something that he couldn’t remove, let alone something that had the potential to cause pain or as the Market put it to ‘incapacitate’. It made him claustrophobic just to think about it.

“What?” Mozzie complained noticing the look he was getting.

“Just stop it. Okay?”

“I just want you to know I disapprove.”

“I know you do. You made that more than clear the last time you were here.” Neal rolled his eyes. “Did you get me what I asked for?”

“Along with a few other items.” Mozzie said as he handed over a duffle bag. “He’s not going to be sleeping with you in here is he?”

“No, he is going to stay in the guest suite across the hall.”

“Good.” Mozzie nodded in approval. “Lock your door.”

“Mozzie...”

“Better safe than sorry, Neal.”

“Go away.”

Mozzie looked past Neal at Peter who was trying to look like he wasn’t interested in the pair’s conversation. Neal doubted that Mozzie truly believed Peter was a cold blooded killer, he wouldn’t have agreed to leave the first time if he felt there was a mortal threat. However it was still clear that he wasn’t comfortable with the Animula’s presence and wanted him gone. Before Mozzie could say anything to hurt Neal’s chances of establishing any kind of working relationship with the Animula Neal pushed Mozzie further out into the hall and joined him out in the hall and closed the door.

“Neal, please, get rid of him. This is never going to work.”

“What has gotten into you?” Neal demanded.

“I just...I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“I can handle him.”

“I’m sure you can if you really want to. Just make sure that’s who you want to be before you commit to this.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Ownership is a two way street, Neal. If you want Peter to be your slave then you need to be his Master...and I just don’t think that’s who you are.”

“I have to at least try.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know...as odd as it sounds it just feels like the right thing to do.”


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

 

“Relax, Peter, I know what I’m doing.”

“What you’re doing is ruining my provenance.” Peter complained.

With his left sleeve rolled up Peter sat with his arm resting palm side up on the table staring at Neal nervously with his gold ringed eyes. Along with a coded version of his name and birthday Peter wore a tattooed list of all his previous owners starting with the Market near the inset of his elbow and ending with Cheng more than half way down his arm. Each owner had a registered code that consisted of a horizontal line of seven small geometric symbols. The symbols had been done in black ink with laser precision by machine every time he’d changed hands. Putting down the traditional tattoo gun that Mozzie had brought him Neal reached out to use his finger to keep track of the lines so that he could count them.

“There are seventeen of them.” Peter supplied, drawing his arm back slightly to avoid being touched. “Eighteen if you count the New York Market, but no one ever does.”

“That seems like a lot. Is it?”

“It’s...more than average.” Peter admitted bitterly.

Neal reached out again, this time taking Peter’s wrist first to keep him from pulling away. Peter flinched but he didn’t fight. It was the first time Neal had touched his skin and he was surprised to find it unusually warm. Neal hadn’t heard anything specifically about Animula having higher body temperatures than humans, but he hadn’t really found anything on Animula physiology. Taking a closer look at Peter’s arm Neal noticed that the second to last code had a thin white line drawn under it. Peter’s breath hissed across his teeth as Neal ran his finger across the line and discovered that the white mark was slightly raised.

“Does that hurt?” Neal asked concerned.

“No.”

“Why is this one underlined?”

“It’s just a scar.” Peter answered dismissively. “I cut myself, it was an accident.”

“Really?” Neal asked doubtfully inspecting the arrow straight scar that ran perfectly under the coded name. “This looks deliberate. This would have been the owner you had just before Cheng. Who were they?”

“No one.” Peter insisted. “Can we just get this over with?”

Neal paused, unsure of how he should react to Peter’s increasingly subversive behavior. As the day had worn on Peter had become somewhat agitated, he continued to work at the computer on the list that Neal had asked for, but he had gotten to his feet about two hours ago and had stood at the table shifting his weight in an oddly rhythmic fashion until Neal asked him to sit for the tattoo. Neal had suggested several times during the day to Peter that he should take a break, but he just shook his head and kept focused on the research. Neal wasn’t sure if Peter was trying to prove something or if he was simply not as uncomfortable as he looked. Either way Neal felt that it probably wasn’t a good precedent to ask a direct question and not get an answer, particularly when the answers he’d gotten had sounded like lies and had been followed by a demand.

“Peter, answer me.” Neal said, trying to sound firm. “Who was this?”

Neal looked up at Peter to stare him down, hoping that a non verbal challenge would be enough to get the right response. He didn’t want to resort to verbalizing a physical threat, because he knew wouldn’t be able to follow through with it if Peter continued to disobey. Neal never used violence to solve his problems, he wasn’t even used to acting threatening. He doubted that he was doing a very good job at it now as Peter still hesitated to answer. They stared at one another motionlessly, locked in a stalemate. It was actually the most eye contact Neal had gotten from him and he found himself uncomfortable with the sorrow in the Animula’s unnatural eyes. When Neal shifted his weight slightly Peter jerked as though he expected to be struck.

“Peter, I...” Neal started to apologize.

“Elizabeth,” Peter said quietly “her name was Elizabeth.”

“A woman?” Neal asked surprised as he looked closer at the mark. “Was she a good owner?”

Peter just nodded.

“Why didn’t she keep you?”

Neal had asked the question out of sheer curiosity before he even thought about the fact that Peter probably didn’t want to talk about it. However now that he had asked he worried about backing down without an answer. Neal had also made the added mistake of looking up and catching Peter’s eye when he’d asked, leading to another silent stand off. The problem solved itself when Peter cast his eyes down with a sigh of defeat. Finding himself tense Neal waited for the explanation that he had basically demanded but no longer really wanted.

“Two years ago she lost everything on a bad investment.”

“Which included you.” Neal said in sympathy.

“She couldn’t afford me.”

From Peter’s tone Neal doubted that the separation had simply been a business decision, however he didn’t want to pry further and invite more conflict between them. Wanting to change the subject Neal turned his attention back to the task at hand. Peter need to be identifiable as belonging to him and since registration wasn’t an option this was the next best thing. Neal didn’t have access to the kind of computer guided needle that had been used by the other owners when they brought their new purchase in for registration. He had been practicing with the traditional tattoo gun on peices of synthetic skin for most of the afternoon. Neal would work on a forged certificate of ownership in Nick Halden’s name along with Nick’s geometric code tonight.

Anyone who actually went to look up Nick Halden’s code in the database wouldn’t find it there. However unless you were selling no one tended to look any deeper than comparing the mark to the paperwork. However if they were out together in public and any authority figure stopped them Neal would have to be able to ‘prove’ that Peter wasn’t stolen. Neal’s last five attempts at the tattoo were perfect. He was convinced that a computer couldn’t possibly do any better.

Looking grateful just to not have Neal asking any more questions Peter kept his arm on the table. Picking up the tattoo gun again Neal gripped down harder on Peter’s wrist and asked him to hold perfectly still. Peter tried to comply but when Neal dipped the needle in the ink and turned on the gun the buzzing noise caused him to jump slightly. Neal repeated his request that Peter hold still since they would only have one shot at this. Neal was still a few inches away from being able to put the needle to skin when Peter started trembling.

“Peter, please, hold still.” Neal asked again as he became more nervous himself. “I can’t do this if you’re shaking.”

“I’m sorry. I can’t help it.” Peter said honestly. “Please, Master Neal, don’t do this...even if it is perfect you are still about to make me completely unsellable to any legitimate owner.”

Neal hated the fact that Peter was right. Once the forgery was etched in his skin he’d only be able to be sold to buyers that were banned for one reason or another from the auction and just as unwilling as he was to properly register him. Sweat was starting to bead off Peter’s already heated skin as he stared pleadingly at Neal. Neal was starting to question how anyone who was supposed to be ‘soulless’ was able to speak so clearly with just his eyes. Putting down the tattoo gun Neal released Peter’s wrist and sat back.

“The way I see it, we have three options here.” Neal sighed. “I can give you back to Cheng. I can sell you back to the Market and explain that you were transferred to me, but that I don’t want to register you. It hasn’t been three days so they will take you back with just the paperwork that came with you. Or I can do this and you can stay with me.”

Neal could see that Peter was horrified by all of his options. Breathing heavily again he looked over his shoulder at the door, but he didn’t really look like he was considering bolting. An Animula out on the street without an owner wouldn’t last long, there would be no way to hide and no one who would be willing to help him. In the end he’d be caught ‘ownerless’ and returned to the Market or worse he’d be found by someone interested sell him Off Market themselves.

“It’s up to you.” Neal said gently. “Whatever you want.”

“You want me to choose?”

“I do. I would love for you to stay, but I honestly don’t think I have what it takes to be your ‘Master’, I don’t even like hearing you call me that.” Neal confessed. “If you need a firm domineering hand to feel comfortable then we need to find you a new owner. I don’t have the personality or the desire to follow the ‘Animula rules’ you laid out for me. However, if you can live with what I suspect will be far more personal freedom than you’re used to I can offer you a safe place to live in exchange for your help in my various ‘business ventures’.”

Peter stared at Neal distrustfully. Neal suddenly realized that this was probably the first time that anyone had asked him to make a decision about his own fate. Having never been offered a choice like this before he might not even know how to make it. Neal was about to say something more when Peter slowly got to his feet. Neal expected him to retreat to his room on the far side of the hall to think it over, instead he cross his right forearm over his left at the elbow and leaned all of his weight against his arm to pin it firmly to the table to keep it from shaking.

“Peter...”

“Do it.”


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

 

Laying on his stomach Peter tried to get comfortable enough to sleep without success. The spare bedroom with full bath across the hall from the apartment where Neal lived was admittedly one of the nicest cages he’d been provided, although the lack of windows gave it a closed in feeling that Peter was doing his best to ignore. The house itself was a giant sprawling mansion, but Peter got the feeling that Neal didn’t own it. Unlike his usual accommodations in the company suites he had spent most of his life in that were more functional than style the large room on the far side of the hall from Neal was just as richly decorated as Neal’s apartment and in nearly an identical style. Still viewing it as a mink lined prison Peter sighed and tried closing his eyes to block it out.

“It could be worse...back to Cheng to let him finish the other half of beating me to death or get sold for parts at the Market.”

Peter didn’t know for a fact that he’d end up on the cutting floor if he was sent back to the Market, but with his resume and condition he assumed that he was worth more dead than alive at this point. It wasn’t legal to harvest Animula for organs, but it happened. Peter had already lost a kidney to an ailing owner as proof.

Peter wasn’t sure how, but he had managed to make it through the day without revealing the lash marks that were burning across his shoulder blades. It certainly wasn’t the first time he’d been thrashed, but for some reason this set was becoming increasingly painful with time rather than better. Peter reminded himself that it had been less than forty-eight hours since Cheng had accused him of stealing and given him the vicious beating. Cheng had been among the worst owners Peter had ever dealt with. Cheng didn’t believe in collars, he was much more interested in getting his hands dirty. His favorite weapon being a thin cane that easily cut into flesh.

After he’d been taken from Elizabeth Peter had woken up at the Market and he had figured that he would die there, in fact he had hoped to. Since he’d been ‘seized property’ the Market placed a dangerously low price on his life. It hadn’t been long before he’d ben handed over to the openly abusive owner. After nearly four years of loving and being loved it had been nearly impossible for Peter to fall back into his old submissive ways, giving Cheng even more reason to be heavy handed.

Pure force of habit had been keeping Peter alive since he’d been taken from Elizabeth, but he wasn’t sure how much longer that was going to last. Two weeks before Neal had appeared Cheng had torn a similar set of marks into his back as the fresh ones he wore now for making an error in the ledger. Trying to recover from two attacks in such quick succession was starting to prove to be too much. Cheng had clearly realized he’d gone too far and when Neal had arrived to the high stakes game Cheng pounced on the chance to saddle the naive con man with a burden in the disguise of an asset.

Trying take his mind off of Cheng Peter looked over at the empty side of the large bed and sighed. With his head spinning from fever Peter found his thoughts lapsing back to the past once more. With the future uncertain and the present painful he found comfort in thinking about the brief moments in the past when he’d found peace.

Laying in bed listening to the rain lash against the window Peter pulled Elizabeth closer. She was still sleeping, but Peter had been awake for hours. He didn’t mind at all. It was a cold and blustery autumn morning outside, but it was warm and comfortable inside. About two months ago Elizabeth had convinced the higher ups to let her take Peter home on the weekends to ‘catch up on past due accounts’.

‘We don’t have any past due accounts.’ Peter had pointed out seriously.

‘Then I guess we’ll have to find something else to do with our time together.’

Since that moment no one lived for the weekend the way Peter did. He had never shared a bed with anyone else before, he found it amazingly comforting to wake in the night with Elizabeth curled up beside him. It was making it increasingly difficult to sleep alone on the week nights, but it was well worth it. He had never slept in and so he woke hours before Elizabeth. He tried his best not to wake her, laying next to her while she slept gave him a chance to peacefully enjoy having her near.

Sleeping on her side with her back against Peter Elizabeth seemed to fit perfectly in his arms. Nuzzling gently against Elizabeth’s shoulder Peter marveled at how wonderful it felt just to have her skin against his. Softly kissing the spot where Elizabeth’s neck and shoulder met Peter closed his eyes and breathed in her scent deeply. If he had to go through every abusive owner again just to get to this point he would do so without hesitation.

“I love you.” Peter whispered.

Peter smiled when he thought back to how terrified he had been when he’d first said the three simple words to her out loud. The fact that tears had streaked down her face had not made him feel any better and he had instantly apologized. He hadn’t understood the concept that someone could cry because they were happy. When he went to step back she threw her arms around his neck and pulled him into a deep kiss that had been very confusing at the time. When she broke off the kiss and told him that she loved him in return he suddenly understood her tears as he found himself having a similar reaction to the confession.

Nestling deeper into the covers Peter toyed with the idea of falling back asleep himself. He was always torn on the matter, it felt glorious to get nine to ten hours worth of sleep, but at the same time the weekends were so short that he hated to miss any of it by being unconscious. The decision was made for him when he suddenly felt a heavy panting breath brushing against his neck.

Peter turned slightly to look over shoulder at Satchmo. He had always loved dogs and this one was no exception. Seeing that Peter was looking at him Satchmo wagged enthusiastically. Peter smiled at the dog and Satchmo let out a low whine.

“Ssssshhh.” Peter softly asked Satchmo to keep quiet.

Satchmo whined again with his tail wagging low.

“What do you want?” Peter whispered.

“You’re in his spot, he sleeps with me when the weather gets cold.” Elizabeth explained with a chuckle. “He’s wants your permission to jump up on the bed.”

“Ah...is that okay?”

“It’s up to you.”

“Alright, come on.” Peter gave Satchmo a slight head nod.

Satchmo did not need to be invited twice and he jumped up on the bed and quickly settled down against Peter’s back. Happy as a bug in a rug Satchmo beat his tail against the bed a few times. Peter was always surprised by how well Satchmo seemed to understand him. Elizabeth turned around to face Peter so that she could steal a kiss. He smiled and wrapped his arms around her so that when he rolled over onto his back he brought her with him. Elizabeth laughed as she suddenly found herself laying on his stomach.

Laying her ear against Peter’s chest Elizabeth closed her eyes and listened to his heart. Peter ran one hand up and down her back, memorizing her curves. Enjoying his touch Elizabeth reached up and carded her hand into his hair. When she brought her hand down she brushed against the thin black band that was around his throat. Peter used to automatically jolt any time she touched it, but it didn’t bother him anymore. In fact the collar seemed to upset her more than it did him these days.

“I wish I could get this off of you.” Elizabeth sighed as she tugged gently at the collar. “I hate it. I hate everything about it.”

“It’s not that bad.” Peter replied dismissively.

“You’re a terrible liar.”

“I know.” Peter admitted as hugged her closer. “Wearing it is a small price to pay for finding you.”

“Renner hasn’t used it has he?” Elizabeth asked anxiously.

“No.”

“He’s been making me nervous lately.”

“If he suspects us we need to stop this right now.”

“I don’t think that’s it, I think he’s just starting to resent the fact that you’re better at his job than he is.” Elizabeth explained. “As for him, or anyone else for that matter, suspecting ‘us’, I don’t care.”

“I suppose they would just think you were using me for sex, which isn’t that unheard of.”

“The sex is good.” Elizabeth smiled. “But that’s not what I’m talking about, I’m not ashamed to love you. I don’t tell anyone for your sake, I know how uncomfortable you are to be with me with anyone else around.”

“I’m not uncomfortable, I’m afraid. I’m afraid of what would happen to you if anyone knew. You can’t deny that you’d instantly be an outcast, you’d probably lose your job, and then we’d lose each other.”

“I hate admitting that you’re right.” Elizabeth said sadly. “I wish I could afford you.”

“What?”

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. I know that sounds horrible, and I feel terrible for even thinking it, but it’s true, I wish I could afford to buy you from the company to save you from them. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have even brought it up. Please forgive me, I don’t see you as property, I just hate the thought that with a single word Renner can hurt you and there would be no repercussions for him. I don’t want to own you, I just don’t want Renner owning you. I...I just don’t know what I would do if...”

“I appreciate what you’re trying to say.” Peter interrupted gently. “As long as I continue to be worth more to the company than my Market value everything will be okay.”

Elizabeth fell silent for a moment. Peter hated it when she worried. Worse yet he worried too and there was nothing he could do for either one of them about it. It was only a matter of time before he either lost his value and was sold, or Renner had enough of being outshined by him and made a move to get rid of him in a trade. It was a delicate balance to earn enough to keep on the company’s good side but not enough to truly get on Renner’s bad side. Elizabeth suddenly propped herself up on her elbows so that she could look into his eyes.

“Eliza...”

“We should just run.” Elizabeth said seriously.

“No. I can’t provide you with a proper life, and I am not going to make you a fugitive.”

“I don’t care.”

“I do.” Peter said firmly. “You deserve better.”

“So do you.”

“I could never even imagine anyone better than you.”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.” Elizabeth huffed.

“I do, but that doesn’t change the fact that running never solves anything.”

“What are we going to do?” Elizabeth asked sounding hopeless.

“Enjoy every moment we have together, deal with the worst when it comes.”

“‘When’? Not ‘if’?”

“I gave up on ‘if’ a long time ago, but I don’t want to think about ‘when’ right now.”


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

 

“Get out of my office.”

Peter wanted nothing more than leave Renner’s office, but he was having trouble getting back to his feet. Peter had been working alone in Elizabeth’s office while she was at a meeting when Renner had summoned him. Trying to collect his thoughts after Renner had triggered his collar Peter couldn’t even remember what had caused him to use it. Something about a bad stock pick on one of the hedge funds that he had made. As his short term memory started to return Peter recalled telling Renner that he couldn’t be expected to pick correctly every time.

“Are you talking back to me?” Renner snarled.

“No, I...”

“Pareo.”

Peter jerked back with a gasp at hearing the trigger phrase, but it didn’t help. The collar gave off the high pitched tone that in and of itself was enough to turn Peter’s stomach. Peter ground his teeth together to ensure that he wouldn’t cry out when the collar went off a second later. He couldn’t keep himself from being dropped to the floor but he could deny Renner the satisfaction of hearing him in pain. Peter had no idea how the collar actually worked, it wasn’t like an electric shock, it was more like someone pouring molten silver down his spine. Slowly regaining control after the painful psychic lash Peter forced himself back to his feet.

This was the fifth time in a month that Renner had found some excuse to set off his collar. As time had passed Renner had become less and less tolerant of the fact that Peter and Elizabeth’s accounts were out performing his own. He couldn’t reasonably separate him from Elizabeth since they worked so well together and were increasing profits. However he could be petty about and try to make Peter’s life miserable. As long as Renner didn’t make a move to sell him Peter didn’t care what he did.

Walking back to the safety of Elizabeth’s office Peter had to keep one hand on the hallway wall to steady himself. He passed by a few of the human employees, most of them ignored him completely, one gave him a sympathetic look but didn’t speak to him. Completing the seemingly endless journey Peter stumbling into Elizabeth’s office. He was horrified to find that she had returned early. She was already visibly upset that she had come back to find him gone.

Looking up and seeing that Peter’s face was completely drained of color told her exactly what had happened and her eyes instantly brightened with tears. Seeing her reaction was more painful than the actual collar, he couldn’t stand to see her so frightened for him. She rushed up to him, but she stopped just short of actually touching him. She knew that even the slightest contact would be painful for at least the next hour. Anger suddenly cast a dark shadow over Elizabeth’s beautiful face and she headed towards the door.

“Elizabeth? Where are you going?”

“To talk to Renner, maybe to kill him. I can’t turn my back for thirty seconds these days without him coming after you. It has to stop.”

“Elizabeth, no, please...you’ll just make it worse.”

“He can’t do this to you.”

“Yes, he can, and so can Neal.”

“Who?”

Peter jolted out of his nightmare in a cold sweat just as his past memories had started to mix with his current fears. Pushing thoughts of the past to the side Peter tried to go back to sleep but it didn’t take him long to decide that sleep was impossible. Closing his eyes just allowed him to focus on both the physical pain of the lacerations and the emotions that had been brought back to the surface by mentioning Elizabeth to Neal. Sitting up and swinging his legs over the edge of the bed Peter suddenly became dizzy. He could feel the heat radiating off his skin from fever and infection. Looking down at the red and raise tattoo that he now wore.

“‘More personal freedoms than you’re used to.’” Peter repeated Neal’s words to himself. “Yeah...right.”

Peter reached over his shoulder and slipped his hand under his night shirt to gingerly touched the thin film that covered his injuries. Cheng had applied a clear synthetic skin bandage over the cuts to prevent them from bleeding and tipping Neal off to the fact that he was actively being cheated. Peter hadn’t thought that it would work, with the exception of Elizabeth he had never been purchased without being stripped down first to ensure he was sound. However Neal had been so drunk and taken so off guard that he was going home with an Animula that he never questioned Peter’s health or past.

“Idiot.” Peter growled.

Peter had left the film on not only because he thought it would help heal the wounds but also so that he could hide the painful cuts from Neal. Neal hadn’t shown very good consistency so far, one moment trying to be more dominant then just as quickly giving in. It was clear that he had no clue how to punish his new acquisition even if he came to the decision that he wanted to. He had remarked that he wasn’t ‘the Master type’, but Peter feared what would happen if Neal knew that all it would take to send him into agony would be a gentle touch across his ruined shoulders. He wasn’t going to risk giving the inexperienced owner a weapon to use against him. He had healed from injuries like this on his own before and he could do it again.

After an hour of sitting on the edge of the bed Peter was starting to feel noticeably worse. The damage to his back made it feel like his skin was on fire and his fever was getting to a point where it was making him nauseous. Getting to his feet Peter headed into the adjoining bathroom. flicking on the lights he blinked for a moment to adjust to the light. Turing the shower on to lukewarm he peeling off his sweat soaked clothes. Stepping into the shower he put his palms against the tile to steady himself as he let the water slip down his back in an attempt to break his fever.

It didn’t take long for the synthetic skin to star peeling free causing the water at his feet to swirl red with blood. The bandaging had been protecting the cuts from the air, but at the same time it seemed to have sealed in the infection as well. Peter growled in pain as he leaned forward and allowed the water spray to clean the film and blood away. He’d need to wear a darker colored jacket for the next few days to hide any additional bleeding. He figured that within a few weeks it would just be another set of scars.

Stepping out of the shower Peter dripped water and blood onto the floor as he carefully tried to towel off without making things worse. Looking up at the bathroom mirror Peter caught sight of his reflection. Seeing the metallic glint in his dark eyes suddenly filled Peter with blinding rage. Snarling at himself he threw his fist into the glass and cracked a spiderweb pattern into it. Instantly regretting his reaction he stared at the damage and sighed.

“And you wonder why humans are afraid of you.” Peter muttered bitterly.

Not really concerned about the broken mirror at the moment Peter went back out into the room and pulled on a new set of pajama pants. He picked up another t-shirt but decided against it, fearful that by morning it would be stuck to the open wounds. Sitting back down on the edge of the bed to keep from falling Peter rested his elbows on his lap. The shower had cooled his skin somewhat, but it hadn’t done anything for the deeper issue and it didn’t take long for the heat to start bothering him again. Getting back to his feet Peter crept over to the door and quietly opened it. Across the way there was no light coming out from under Neal’s door, it was well past midnight and he was most likely asleep.

“Don’t even think about it, Peter.” He muttered to himself. “His short friend already has him on high alert for getting murdered in his sleep. Get caught breaking in and you’ll be back in a collar by morning.”

Peter thought that he had talked himself out of his insane plan, but he found himself stepping across the hall anyway. Barefoot Peter was able to move almost completely silently as he reached out and tested the door knob. He fully expected it to be locked, but it wasn’t. Opening the door to Neal’s apartment he peered cautiously inside. The artificial lights of New York streamed in through the large glass doors that lead to the patio and splashed a silver light over everything.

Neal was sleeping soundly in the large bed that took up the corner of the open designed apartment. Peter stepped into the apartment and closed the door behind himself. His heart was pounding against his ribs as he stayed motionless for a moment. He had no idea how heavy or light a sleeper Neal was and to be caught now would be disastrous. When Neal remained locked in a peaceful sleep Peter continued to make his way slowly across the apartment.

Getting to the walk in closet he closed the door and headed into the bathroom and closed that door as well. There was a small night light in the bathroom but it wasn’t going to be enough. Closing his eyes Peter flicked on the light. He blinked in the bright light and then held his breath to hear if Neal was stirring. Feeling that he was still safe Peter opened the medicine cabinet and looked through it. It didn’t take him long to find what he was looking for. Taking down a bottle of aspirin Peter carefully removed a small handful of the pills and slipped them into the pockets of his pajamas. Looking under the sink he found a bottle of hydrogen peroxide which he also stole.

Turning off the light again Peter waited for his eyes to adjust before leaving with the bottle of peroxide in hand. He made his way slowly back towards the front door. When he reached the kitchen he stepped on a spot in the wooden floor that creaked loudly in protest. Peter froze but the damage was done as he heard Neal gasp slightly as he was woken. Peter’s fever heated blood turned to ice as he stood perfectly motionless. He prayed that Neal didn’t bother opening his eyes.

“Peter?” Neal asked still sounding half a sleep. “Is that you?”

“Yes, Master Neal.” Peter admitted knowing he’d been caught.

“Just ‘Neal’.” He corrected casually. “What are you doing?”

“I’m sorry, I...” Peter tried to think of an excuse. “I was thirsty.”

“Okay.” Neal responded sleepily.

Peter was shocked by how easily Neal accepted his reason for invading his apartment. Neal certainly didn’t act like someone who was worried about being murdered in his sleep. Even Peter had to admit that he’d come up with a fairly piss poor explanation for being here and he wouldn’t have blamed Neal for a second for being angry or frightened. Instead Neal just rolled over and put his back to Peter to go back to sleep. Peter turned on the tap to cover up his transparent lie.

“Don’t drink out of the sink.” Neal warned.

“I’m sorry, Mast...”

“Just ‘Neal’.” He corrected again. “The building pipes are over a hundred years old, it tastes like metal.” Neal continued with a yawn. “There’s bottled water in the fridge, take one of those.”

“Thank you.” Peter said sincerely.

“We’ll get a fridge for your side tomorrow.” Neal nestled down in the covers. “Good night, Peter.”

“Good night...Neal.”


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven

"You call this a plan?"

"It's beauty is in its simplicity." Neal chuckled as he reached up and tilted his fedora slightly.

"It doesn't get much simpler than 'walk through the front door'." Peter sighed.

"Correction: walk through the front door with you."

"I'm not a magic key."

"I'm willing to bet you are."

Peter looked like he was about to argue further or at least argue about what happened the last time Neal gambled, but then he glanced around at the people making their way to work around him and he fell silent. Neal felt a little guilty, it was obvious that Peter didn't feel comfortable being out in public, in fact he looked like he might pass out at any moment. For the most part the busy New Yorkers just went about their day not even noticing that there was anything different about him, he was just another obstacle in their way as they navigated the busy sidewalks. Peter mostly kept his head down to keep his eyes from giving him away. Neal had witnessed a few times when he'd looked up and someone had caught sight of his metallic eyes. They all automatically took a step away from him no matter how far away they already were.

Neal knew it was extraordinarily rare for Animula to stray outside the buildings where they worked or rather where they lived. With only the richest companies and people able to afford ownership most of the population would go their entire lives without ever seeing one in person. Despite there being so little known about Animula by the 'common man' it still appeared that people had a natural aversion to them.

Peter kept a step behind Neal, but only a step away. He wanted to make it clear that he was accompanied by a Master. Animula weren't allowed out on the streets without an escort or written permission. The last thing either one of them really wanted to deal with was someone challenging Peter's legality. It put Neal a little on edge to have Peter stand at his back, he was used to walking with people at his shoulder not just behind it. At first he had been constantly looking back at Peter to talk to him, but after Peter had reminded him for about the dozenth time Neal was getting used to looking forward when he spoke to him.

Glancing back at Peter again before heading across the street towards their mark Neal was about to ask him if he was alright, beyond looking nervous he look just plain unwell. However Neal had already asked serval times and always got the same answer of 'I'm fine'. When Neal had gotten up this morning he had found Peter standing patiently outside his own door dressed in a deep navy blue suit like was waiting to head off to a board meeting. He had to basically be forced into accepting something to eat for breakfast and even then he had barely eaten. Neal hoped that if he stocked Peter's side of the house with food that he'd do better with keeping himself fed. Neal hated to think that Peter felt he needed to sneak around or steal any time he got hungry or thirsty the way he had in the middle of the night.

"Okay, let's do this, just act natural." Neal reminded Peter.

"It's not my behavior that I'm worried about, 'Master'."

"I'll do better once we are inside, just don't take any of it personally."

Peter shrugged, but he instantly regretted doing so. Neal was already heading out across the street so he didn't notice Peter grimace. The aspirin was helping take the edge off his fever for now, but it really wasn't doing much for pain. Following Neal out into the street Peter briefly considered lagging behind, with the way people drove there was a good chance he be killed by on coming traffic. Peter shook off the dark thought and caught up with Neal on the far sidewalk. Although he knew he needed to stay out of Elizabeth's life for her own good Peter wanted to live long enough to at least ensure that she managed to pick up the pieces of her life that he had shattered. So far she hadn't even really had the chance, but he had faith in her.

Lost in his own thoughts Peter just blindly followed Neal through the richly decorated front lobby of the large skyscraper. Just as Neal had predicted no one stopped them on their way towards the executive elevator. Neal had done his research and knew the CFO he was after had his offices on the 42nd floor. When the elevator lifted up Peter felt the bottom of his stomach give out on him and he feared he might actually be sick. Closing his eyes he kept everything under control. Neal was busy with his phone reading the list of names and connection one last time in preparation to impress the CFO.

"Remember I'm 'Nick Halden' when we are out and about."

"Yes, Master Halden." Peter returned dryly.

"Cheer up, Peter, this will be fun."

"Fun?"

"Think of it as a chance to get some revenge on the fat cat cooperate owners."

"I don't want revenge, I..."

Peter didn't get a chance to finish as the elevator doors opened. Neal pulled his hands out of his pockets lifted his head up a little higher as he stepped off the elevator, holding himself as though he owned the entire corporation already. He strode up to the young receptionist behind the marble desk and inquired where Simmens the CFO was as if he was expected and was a little put off by the fact that the man wasn't already there waiting for him. Peter was a little taken aback by how effortlessly and perfectly Neal slipped into the persona of every entitled Master he had ever dealt with.

The secretary didn't mind Neal's lofty tone, she just looked pleased that he was talking to her at all. When she said that she would personally go get Simmens Neal smiled brightly at her and she blushed. Peter instantly saw the danger of a man who knew how to use his own charm, but the secretary either didn't know she was being played or flat out didn't care. Peter suspected it was the latter, but either way it worked and Neal got what he wanted from her. She lead Neal and Peter back to a large private waiting area and left them there for a moment. It was only a minute before she returned with her boss and then retreated back to her desk.

"Who the hell are you?" Simmens demanded.

"Nick Halden." Neal smiled as he stepped forward and offered his hand to Simmens. "I'd love ten minutes of your time, I promise you it will beneficial to us both."

Simmens eyed Neal suspiciously for a moment before glancing at Peter. Peter quickly brought his eyes down and offered Simmens a shallow bow. Clearly intrigued by anyone powerful enough to be walking around with an Animula Simmens nodded before inviting Neal to talk in his office. Neal thanked him and took off his hat, handing it back to Peter without looking at him. Peter automatically took the offering and held on to the expensive looking felt Fedora.

"Stay here." Neal ordered.

"Yes, Master Halden."

Neal and Simmens left to discuss business. Peter was grateful that Neal wanted him to stay here, he could feel his fever starting to become a problem again as his skin felt chilled. With the humans gone Peter would be able to relax for a moment and take some of the aspirin he had stored in his pocket. Peter looked down at the hat in his hands and shook his head sadly.

"Hat rack...a new job to add to the resume, right next to 'accessory to white collar crime'. Great. Perfect."

Keeping the hat in one hand Peter fished out two of the bitter aspirin and chewed on them. Absent mindedly playing with the band on the hat in his hands Peter looked around the room and contemplated sitting down. Before he got a chance someone entered from the left entrance. Peter jerked his shoulders back the way he always did when humans approached and with a flash of agony he could suddenly feel blood drip down his back. He prayed that the dark jacket he was wearing would hide the stain if it started to soak through. Risking a glance up at the new comer Peter was surprised to see a familiar face.

"Ian?" Peter asked.

Ian had just been passing through the common waiting area but responding to his name he changed direction and came to stand a few feet from Peter. He kept his eyes down at the floor, but that did little to hide the gold rings around his light blue irises. He was a few years younger than Peter with short sandy blonde hair.

"Yes, Master? How can I help you?"

"What? No. I'm not..." Peter corrected awkwardly. "Ian, look up at me."

Ian didn't seem comfortable with the idea, but he did as he was told. Seeing that Peter was Animula as well caused Ian to relax slightly. He furrowed his brow as he tried to recognize Peter. Being raised alone and being discouraged from looking directly at people's face Animula never developed much skill when it came to recognizing people. They tended to focus in on a single physical trait to identify their Masters rather than committing a set of facial features to memory. The problem with that was if a long period of time went by without seeing that person the single feature would easily be forgotten. It had been over twelve years since Peter had last seen Ian. Peter had taken years and worked very hard on training himself to be able to match faces and names. Having changed hands so frequently it had become a needed skill.

"We've met..." Ian struggled to come up with a name.

"Peter." Peter supplied.

"Right..." Ian said still sounding doubtful.

"We were at Morbane Investment together."

Ian nodded, the name of the company helping more than Peter's actual name. Peter waited a moment, but Ian didn't seem to have any follow up questions. Peter sighed quietly at Ian just standing there staring at him emotionlessly. Peter had tried time and time again to make a connection with other Animula but he had only succeeded once. The only time he'd ever managed to truly befriend an Animula was a young man named Daniel.

He had very quickly learned that Daniel had all of the same problems he had, right down to having 'imprinted' at far too young an age. Although neither one of them really understood what that meant. Unfortunately Daniel also had the same issue with never being kept by an owner for long and he was sent back to the Market just a few months after they met. They hadn't kept Peter more than a week more than that before trading him off as well. Peter often worried about what became of his friend, it had been nearly fifteen years. He had been younger than him by nearly a decade, but already had a list of owners that nearly rivaled his own. Peter focused on Ian again, the Animula looked like he was waiting for orders even though there were no humans in the room.

"Are they treating you well here?" Peter prompted.

"Yes." Ian nodded slightly.

"How long have you been here?"

"I don't know."

"How many owners have you had since Morbane?" Peter asked instead.

"Just this one."

"Are you wearing a collar?"

"No."

"That's good."

As soon as Peter stopped asking questions Ian fell silent. It was behaviour like this that helped continue the belief that Animula were soulless. Having been more traditionally handled at the Market Ian had no real interest in social interaction. The way he glanced at the far door showed Peter about the only thing Ian wanted was to get back to what ever task he'd been set on. Peter found satisfaction with a job well done, but he never found himself as absorbed in the work the way most of the other Animula he'd met were.

Not wanting to get Ian in trouble Peter told him he could get back to his day. He felt a little too much like a Master giving an order, but he didn't know how else to dismiss the submissive Animula. Ian gave him a shallow bow and left. With blood continuing to slowly seep from his burning shoulders Peter stared at the door that Ian had disappeared through.

"Is there something wrong with him...or with me?"


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve

“Peter? I know I’ve brought this up like a dozen times today, but are you okay?”

“Fine.”

“Are you sure?”

Peter nodded vacantly. Neal still wasn’t convinced and feared that the day out in the city had been far more stressful than he had let on to. Peter had become progressively quieter as the day had worn on to the point where he now only spoke when asked a direct question and tended to respond with just a word or two. They had gone to four other businesses after the first one and out of the five men in total that Neal had talked to four of them were interested in his offer. Neal had never worked on a con of quite this size and scope before but so far things were working out well. However if these trips out into the city were going to make Peter miserable he was going to have to think of a different tactic.

“I’m sorry if today was too much for you. We’ll take tomorrow off, I need to do some research on a space for rent for this shindig anyway and I can do that online. I didn’t want to bother with that if I was just going to get turned down today, but all in all today was a success thanks to you. I would never have even gotten the time of day from them without you, in fact they probably would have just called security.”

Neal smiled at Peter hoping that he’d smile back but since he hadn’t been asked a question he didn’t have any reaction at all. Neal sighed heavily, he was starting to understand the ‘souless’ label a bit better now and he didn’t like it. It was the first full day they had spent together and Neal was still having his doubts on what was normal for Peter. Yesterday, even just this morning, Peter had seemed to have a lot more fight in him, now he was practically listless. Neal wondered if there was anyone he could ask to find out if Peter’s quick shallow breathing was normal for Animula, he kept insisting that he was fine, but it looked painful and exhausting.

Standing the middle of the apartment Peter just stared blankly at the floor. His jaw line looked tense as though he was grinding his teeth, but Neal couldn’t be sure. He waited a moment to see if Peter would say anything, but he just stood like a living statue. It was actually more the behavior that Neal had been originally expecting to see from the beginning. Staring at nothing Peter gave the impression of being made of soulless flesh just waiting to be offered a direction to move in. Seeing Peter being more submissive made Neal miss the more feisty side of him that he’d displayed before.

“I’m going to get changed, feel free to do so as well, and then we can order some dinner.” Neal said. “Anything you want. You keep saying you’re not hungry, but I really think you need to eat something.”

Peter nodded slightly, but he didn’t offer any opinion on what they should order. Neal decided he’d try giving Peter some options after getting changed to see if anything piqued his interest. Neal took off his hat and Peter instantly stepped forward and held his hand out for it.

“No, Peter, you don’t have to do that here.” Neal said as he held on tighter to the hat. “I thought I made it clear that was all just for show. I don’t expect or even want you to be my butler or anything when we’re at home. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Master Halde...Caffrey.”

“‘Neal’.”

Peter furrowed his brow slightly before nodding. Neal was starting to seriously doubt that Peter could handle a dual lifestyle of being treated like Animula one moment and human the next. He had taken it for granted when Peter had accept the tattoo that he knew what he was getting into. Neal realized now that he probably should have explained everything out more carefully. Unsure of what to do about it right now Neal headed off to the walk in closet to change into something more casual. He had little hope that Peter would go off and do the same, at the same time he didn’t want to make it an order and defeat the purpose of giving him a choice.

Tossing the hat down on the small hassock in the closet Neal changed out of the suit into a pair of khakis and a plain white shirt. Picking the hat back up he went to put it away and noticed some wear and tear on the black hat band. He didn’t think much of it, he just worked the damaged band off before he put the hat away. With the ruined band in hand Neal stepped back out into the main room. When Neal returned Peter looked up at him and his eyes widened as he took a quick step back with his hands held up slightly. Trying to think of what Peter would be most interested in for dinner Neal didn’t notice the sudden fear in Peter’s stance. Neal casually tossed the band on the kitchen table, he’d see if he could mend it later.

“Is there anything in particular you like to eat? I’ve got take-out menu...”

Neal trailed off as he looked up at Peter. The Animula was staring at Neal with a look of abject horror suddenly painted across his face. Taking another step back Peter’s knee buckled and almost gave way completely. Concerned Neal took a step closer but stopped when Peter began trembling. Peter glanced at the kitchen table and then back to Neal. The fear in his gold stained eyes vanished and was instantly replaced with a murderous glare.

“Peter?” Neal asked nervously.

“No...” Peter whispered.

“No?” Neal repeated. “‘No’ what?”

“I won’t be collared again.” Peter snarled as he panted for each breath. “Never again.”

“Collared?” Neal asked confused. “I don’t have any intention of...”

Neal was cut off as Peter launched towards him in a clumsy attack. Startled by the sudden aggression Neal barely managed to step out of Peter’s path. Unable to stop Peter continued forward until he slammed into the kitchen counter. Almost falling to his knees he gripped a hold of the counter to help keep himself on his feet. Breathing heavily he fought bitterly to keep standing. With a terrifying roar of pain and frustration he blindly lashed out at the glassware the was on the counter sending it shattering to the floor. Unsure of what to do Neal took a few steps back and put his hand up in more of a sign of peace rather than in self defense.

“Peter, please, calm down. What...”

Neal instantly realized that the last thing he should have done was say something that sounded like an order, it just enraged Peter further. Pushing himself away from the counter Peter turned around and stumbled towards Neal with murderous rage burning in his golden eyes. He only made it a few steps before he had to stop and widen his stance to keep from losing his balance. Neal had been about to run, but Peter was quickly looking less like a threat and more like he was about to collapse. Sweat rolled down his skin and his previously intense glare lost all of its focus. Shaking violently Peter was barely managing to stay standing.

“I loved her...I still do...I always will...” Peter rambled as he stared sightlessly at the floor. “You can’t take that from me...”

“Peter...”

“Why...why was she the only one...who ever saw me?” Peter asked mournfully. His eyes regained some focus he looked up at Neal. “Why can’t you see me? Please...just see me.”

“I...I’m sorry, I don’t understand.” Neal stuttered with his heart racing. “I can see you.”

“No...” Peter shook his head as he staggered a step back “you don’t.”

When Peter’s knees finally failed him it was instinct for Neal to step forward to catch him. Neal managed to keep Peter standing by wrapping his arms around his waist and pulling him in close. Peter reached up and put his hand against Neal’s chest to try and push him away as he arched back. Neal was shocked by the heat that was radiating off of Peter skin. Losing the struggle to stay conscious Peter’s eyes rolled back to white as he relaxed completely.

Unable to support Peter’s dead weight the best Neal could do was help guide him down to the floor. Having been placed on his back Peter jerked awake with a painful gasp. He looked up fearfully at Neal briefly before he passed out once again. Feeling shaky Neal sat down on the floor next to him. With a terrifying realization Neal brought his hands up and slowly turned them over to reveal the fact that his palms were covered in blood.

“What...”

Staring at the gory stain Neal didn’t even understand it at first. Getting to his knees Neal slipped his hand under Peter’s shoulder and rolled him onto his side. Just as Neal feared the floor was already sticky with blood. The dark color of Peter’s jacket did a good job hiding the stain, but now that Neal was paying attention he could see that the material was shiny and wet.

Grabbing the back of the collar on Peter’s jacket and pulled on it to look down his back. Neal’s breath hissed over his teeth at the sight, the once white dress shirt was soaked through with crimson. Neal yanked at Peter’s tie to loosen it, finding his hands too shaky to undo the top button he grabbed either side of the shirt collar and yanked at it to snap the button off. He pulled back the top of Peter’s shirt collar to peel the cotton away from his skin and looked inside at the diagonal lacerations that marred Peter’s shoulders. With his skin covered in blood it was hard to tell exactly how much damage there was but it looked to be extensive.

“What did Cheng do to you?” Neal lamented. “...what have I done?”

Not wanting to leave Peter laying on the floor Neal tried to lift him up but couldn’t figure out a good way to do it. Neal was powerful enough to handle Peter’s weight if he had to lift the same amount on a barbell or a box, it was the awkwardness that came along with moving limp body that prevented him from getting very far. Leaving Peter’s side for a moment Neal rushed into the bathroom and retrieved a washcloth that he soaked in cold water. Returning with the cold cloth he pressed it against Peter’s forehead in hopes of waking him. Helping Peter stay on his side Neal ran the cooling cloth over Peter’s face. When he transferred the cloth to the back of Peter’s neck he woke with a strangled gasp of panic.

“It’s okay, Peter, I’m not going to hurt you, I swear.”

In his pain and fever induced delirium Peter was in no state to listen even if he was willing to believe Neal. He tried to push Neal away and when that didn’t work he started struggling to get to his feet instead. Since getting up was exactly what Neal wanted him to do he went to help. Peter was halfway to his knees and when Neal took his arm to help him. Peter jerked away violently and landed hard on his shoulder with a breathless cry of pain.

“Peter...”

“Get away from me!” Peter roared.

“I just want to help.”

“I don’t need your help!” Peter spat bitterly.

Determined to prove his point Peter started the labor intensive task of getting back up on his hands and knees. Neal let him get as far on his own as he could, but once he got to his knees with his palms against the floor he was stuck. Neal risked slipping in under Peter’s arm to help him stand. Peter growled and snarled at Neal in disgust but he allowed Neal to support him as they both got to their feet. Peter started walking towards the door to go back to his side of the house but Neal steered him towards the near by bed instead.

Neal sat Peter down on the edge of the bed, needing to keep his hand on his shoulder to keep him from falling over. Peter didn’t protest help with getting his jacket off but when Neal went to do the same with his shirt Peter shoved him away with a surprising amount of strength. Pitching forward Peter went into a violent fit of dry heaving. Neal waited for Peter to regain control of his stomach before he stepped back up to him and guided him to lay down. Nearing passing out again Peter allowed Neal to help him lay on his side on the bed. Peter tried to pull his feet away from Neal as he took off his shoes but he was fading fast. Shivering from pain and infection Peter rolled over onto his stomach and gripped the edge of the bed tightly as he fought to stay awake.

With a glazed look in his eyes Peter focused on just taking his next breath. It took effort to fill his lungs but then he would just relax and allow the weight of his chest push the air back out with a heavy rasp. Seeing him fight for breath Neal reached down to remove Peter’s tie. When Neal’s hand brushed his throat Peter jerked violently and stared up at Neal in pure terror.

“Easy...” Neal tried to sooth.

“Please...please don’t collar me.” Peter begged weakly. “I...I can’t go through it again...”

“I’m not going to collar you, I promise. You’re safe here.”

Peter’s expression of fear turned to a mournful defeat at hearing Neal say ‘safe’ before he mercifully passed out. Neal watched him for a tense moment, fearful that he might die at any moment. Once unconscious and freed from pain Peter’s breath slowly began to return to a normal rhythm. Neal swallowed against a sandpaper throat as he realized how dry his mouth had become. Going over to the kitchen sink Neal turned on the tap and drank directly from it ignoring the slight metallic taste. Noticing the blood he’d transferred onto the fixture Neal washed his hands and used a dish rag to clean up the rest. Feeling somewhat in a daze from everything that had just happened Neal dragged one of the dinning table chairs over to the bed.

Sitting down he took a moment to try and calm his painful stomach. Neal pressed his fingertips against Peter’s throat and discovered that even passed out his heart was racing. He wasn’t sure what he was going to do. He couldn’t take Peter to a hospital, they wouldn’t treat him they would just tell him to take him to Market, but that wasn’t an option. Even if the Market didn’t have Neal arrested they would certainly take Peter away and if he lived he’d just get sold to someone else who would probably end up killing him. Fishing into his pocket for his cell phone Neal called the only number he could think of.

“How’s your new pet?” Mozzie answered the phone sourly.

“Mozzie, I...I need help...”


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen

 

“I knew he was going to be trouble. You don’t have what it takes to be a ‘Master’, Neal, you’ve got too much heart. Are you at least safe? I can...”

“Mozzie, stop talking.” Neal interrupted. “It’s not me, it’s him. Peter is dying.”

“Dying?” Mozzie repeated surprised.

“Cheng beat him within an inch of his life and I haven’t made things any better by having him working for me all day. How he even stayed standing this long is beyond me. Mozzie, there is so much blood.”

“Blood?”

“His back is torn open.” Neal fretted. “I don’t know how he hid it so well, but he is near death now. He must have a serious infection, he’s radiating heat and delirious. He’s passed out at the moment but when he wakes he’s going to be in agony. I kept thinking that he looked like he was in pain, but he kept deny...”

“Neal, calm down.”

“Calm down? What am I going to do? I can’t just stand by and let him die.”

“I knew you were going to get attached to him.” Mozzie sighed sadly. “Just another reason I was so afraid when you told me you’d brought an Animula home.”

“Mozzie you have to help us.” Neal begged.

“Well, you certainly can’t take him to a hospital they won’t treat an Animula, and the Market is out of the question they’d just arrest you. I’ll have to find you a vet that has some...discretion. I think I know someone who knows someone. It will not be an inexpensive house call.”

“I don’t care. I need him here as soon as possible.”

“I’ll find someone.” Mozzie assured.

“Thank you.”

“Neal, don’t drop your guard around him, a wounded animal is far mor...”

“I can take care of myself, just find me a vet, Mozzie.”

Neal hung up the phone before Mozzie could protest further. Neal was not about to admit to Mozzie that Peter had already tried to attack him once. Looking at Peter now he doubted that he had the strength to try anything like that again, at least not at the moment. Not wanting to believe Mozzie that Peter could actually pose a threat Neal dismissed his previous actions to pain and fever induced psychosis.

Neal looked at the crimson gore that had soaked through Peter’s shirt and realized that if he didn’t do something about it now that the blood was going to dry the cotton to his injuries and make things even worse. Leaving Peter for a moment Neal went across the halls to get the set of guest towels that he kept there. Stepping into Peter’s bathroom Neal froze when he caught sight of the broken mirror. Reaching up and touching the spider web pattern Neal could easily imagine the amount of pain and frustration that must have accompanied the powerful strike to the sturdy glass.

“Push anyone hard enough and eventually they will push back.” Neal said sadly. “I just can’t believe you didn’t reach that point a long time ago.”

Feeling increasingly sick to his stomach Neal gathered up an armful of towels and returned to his own apartment to set them down on the bed next to Peter. Going into the kitchen he retrieved a sharp pair of scissors. Neal brushed his hand against Peter’s temple to see if it would wake him. He wanted to avoid startling him while removing the shirt, however Peter stayed locked in the unnatural sleep.

“I hate blood.” Neal cringed.

Gritting his teeth Neal lifted up the back of Peter’s shirt to cut it open. Peeling the sticky cloth away from Peter’s skin Neal sliced up through the back until he reached the collar when he had to work a little harder to cut through the tie. Realizing that he wasn’t going to be able to pull the shirt out from under Peter without making a mess Neal just cut up each side and removed the back of the shirt in two pieces. Removing the cloth carefully revealed a shocking amount of damage. Feeling queazy just looking at the slash marks cut into Peter’s shoulders Neal swallowed against the taste of bile.

“You didn’t have to suffer silently for the past two days.” Neal informed Peter pointlessly. “What did you think my reaction was going to be if you’d just told me? Did you really think I’d send you back to Cheng as ‘damaged goods’?”

Realizing that had probably been exactly Peter’s fear Neal shook his head sadly. Unsure of where to start Neal retreated back into the kitchen and filled a large bowl half way with cold water and set it on the chair next to the bed. Placing the towels along Peter’s sides to try and soak up some of the mess Neal took a clean wash cloth and dipped it in the water to try and start removing some of the blood that was still slowly dripping from the angry wounds.

Trying his best to not touch any of the actual lacerations Neal gently started cleaning away the gore. It didn’t take more than a few minutes before he had to return to the sink to change out the water. Exposed to the air the cuts began to clot and the bleeding slowed down significantly. Slowly making progress Neal revealed that there were six diagonal gashes across his shoulders that were obviously fresh, what Neal wasn’t expecting to find was four others that had started to heal over that he guessed were a few weeks old. Clearing more of the stain away gave Neal a view of the dozen or so older marks that had faded into scars. Putting down the blood soaked wash cloth Neal traced one of the healed scars with a heavy heart.

“Soulless or not no one deserves this.”

Neal pressed the back of his hand against Peter’s forehead and still found it unnaturally warm. Getting some more clean water Neal used a new cloth to try and help bring down his fever. When Neal moved the cloth to the back of Peter’s neck he whimpered as nightmares invaded his restless sleep. Remembering that Peter had reacted negatively the last time he’d been touched across the back of the neck Neal lifted up the cloth and inspected the area. There was a distinct mark about half and inch wide and two inches straddling Peter’s spine at the base of his neck.

“A collar did that, didn’t it?” Neal asked rhetorically. “When they say it’s ‘humane’ do they just mean that it’s more humane than beating someone until they pass out and need a month to recover?”

Getting increasingly angry over Peter’s obvious mistreatment Neal carded his hand into Peter’s hair in attempt to offer him some small amount of comfort even if he wasn’t capable of being aware of it. Even though he remained unconscious Peter’s breathing did slow slightly at the compassionate touch.

“Although I get the feeling you’d choose a physical abuse over even just the threat of a collar every time. Which is a terrifying thought...”


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter Fourteen

 

“Please don’t cry, Hon.”

“I’m sorry,” Elizabeth whimpered breathlessly “I’m sorry for everything.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“I had to do it...I had to. ...forgive me.”

“Hush, there is nothing to forgive.” Peter assured as he held her tighter. “I love you, I’ve never been prouder to have a new owner.”

“I don’t want to be your owner, Peter, I don’t want anyone to own you.”

Having no good response Peter just kissed the top of Elizabeth’s head as she buried her face against his chest. Sitting on the couch with Elizabeth in his lap Peter hugged her closer and rocked gently. Elizabeth was doing her best to calm herself, after a few minutes she managed to stop her tears but her breath was still ragged from the emotional storm. Peter hated to see her so upset, particularly since he wasn’t sure how to help.

With his arm still irritated by the fresh tattoo Peter wasn’t entirely sure that Elizabeth purchasing him was a good idea, but Renner had started to make serious moves to have Peter involved in an upcoming trade. There was always the chance that the trade wouldn’t go through, but if they had waited until they knew for sure it would have been too late to do anything about it. Fairly certain that Renner would just try again if he couldn’t get rid of Peter on this trade Elizabeth had gone over Renner’s head and made a bid to buy Peter herself to avoid being separated.

The only other option would have been running, which Peter wasn’t going to allow. Not only were the penalties for Animula ‘theft’ steep, but such a life would be difficult on them both, and Peter doubted that they would get far. Peter had never been outside the city and he worried about how more rural humans would react to him. People in the city didn’t often come across Animula, but they were at least used to them. Outside the city Peter wasn’t certain that he would be tolerated as well, not everyone saw him as property, there were those that saw him as a demon.

Elizabeth had been starting to mention lately that she really wanted to take a trip with him out into the countryside. She said it was an innocent vacation idea, but Peter suspected that it was her looking to show him what life outside the city could be like if they did run. He had always been able to remind her that he belonged to the company and couldn’t be taken from city limits. However now that she owned him outright it would be harder to turn her down. He desperately wanted to see what it was like away from the noise and chaos of the city, but at the same time he wanted to keep Elizabeth safe to the best of his ability. Out away from the shelter of the city he wasn’t sure that he could prevent the worst if someone with a strong hatred of Animula discovered them.

At the moment Peter feel like he wasn’t doing a particularly good job of just keeping her happy, let alone safe. Keeping her close with one arm Peter reached up with his other hand and loosened his tie and undid the top two buttons of his shirt. Taking Elizabeth’s hand he brought it up and placed it on his throat. Elizabeth looked up at him confused at first as he held his hand over hers. When she realized that he was pointing out to her that he wasn’t wearing his collar a warm smile touched her lips.

“You’re my owner on paper, but I have never felt so free.”

Tears slipped down Elizabeth’s face once more but this time Peter had the feeling that it was a good thing. She sat up a little straighter to offer Peter a kiss that he gladly accepted and returned. Pulling away slightly Elizabeth’s expression clouded over once more.

“You’re going to have to wear it when we are at work, company policy.”

“I was wondering if we’d get to still work together or if I was going to end up getting fat lounging around the house all day.” Peter chuckled.

“It would drive you crazy to laze around the house.” Elizabeth teased.

“It really would. How did you talk Renner into letting me continue to work there?”

“It was part of my purchase agreement, I’m leasing you back to them during the day to help pay for you.”

“...you can afford me, right?” Peter asked hesitantly.

“Barely.” Elizabeth admitted. “But we can always sell the house.”

“I don’t want you losing everything trying to pay the taxes on me.”

“I would spend every last dime I have to keep you out of the hands of the Market and I’d do it gladly.” Elizabeth smiled. “As far as I’m concerned I stole you, they have no idea what you’re really worth. If they did no one would ever be able to afford you.”

Peter smiled and leaned in for another quick kiss. Elizabeth squawked in surprise when Peter suddenly gathered her up in his arms and lifted her up as he got to his feet. Laughing she hugged her arms around his neck as carried her across the living room. Elizabeth expected him to take her up the stairs towards the bedroom, but instead he took her through the kitchen to the back door.

Awkwardly opening the back door Peter carried Elizabeth out into the small well tended back yard. The sun had set an hour ago, but the scene was well lit by the silver moon. The high wooden fence offered them privacy from the neighbors. Peter walked out next to the garden by the small deck and finally put her down. Before she could ask him what they were doing in the yard Peter took one of her hands in his own and knelt down on one knee. Elizabeth gasped sharply at the move as her heart raced.

“Elizabeth Ann Mitchell, will you marry me?”

Rendered completely speechless Elizabeth just stared down at him.

“I don’t have much, I don’t even have a last name to offer you, but you can have all of my heart and soul.”

Still unable to find her voice Elizabeth tugged on Peter’s hands to encourage him to stand back up. He did as he was asked and she threw her arms around his neck again to pulled him into a passionate kiss. She didn’t release him until they were both breathless. Peter wrapped his arms around her lower back to keep her close as he smiled at her.

“Is that a ‘yes’?” Peter teased.

“Yes.”

Half dreaming, half just thinking back on better times Peter hovered between sleep and waking. As the searing pain from the cuts across his shoulders began to increasingly invade his thoughts Peter was pulled further from the peace of the past and into an unpleasant present. Fearing he wasn’t safe Peter fought against fever and fatigue to wake. He didn’t remember anything that had happened recently, it even took him a while to recall how he’d been injured in the first place.

The out of place sound of running water brought Peter closer to the surface. Fluttering his eyes open he was greeted by sights both real and hallucinatory. Nothing in the distance focused very well making it difficult to determine the size or nature of the room he was in. The air felt cold and there was a harsh light in the edge of his vision. Trying to piece together his situation Peter caught sight of numerous towels near by that were stained in blood. When he realized he wasn’t alone Peter stared in horror at the man by the sink who turned around and revealed that he was drenched in blood up to his elbows. Reaching up he wiped his gory hands casually against his shirt as if he was just drying off clean water.

Convinced by the powerful hallucination Peter came to the conclusion that he’d been returned to the Market to be hollowed out for organs. He had given them a life time of service and now they were after the only thing he had left to give. With his heart pounding painfully Peter struggled to stay awake to fight back. He feared that if he lost consciousness now he might never find it again. When the butcher noticed his eyes were open he stepped closer and knelt down to bring himself down to eye level. Peter tried desperately to pull away as the man with disturbingly blue eyes reached out with a bloody hand to touch him, but his muscles simply wouldn’t respond.

“Peter?” Neal asked softly. “Are you awake?”

Peter tried to snarl an insult at his tormentor but he could only manage a low growl.

“I’m so sorry, I can’t really do anything about the pain. There is a vet on the way, he’ll be able to make you more comfortable.”

The concern in the young man’s tone didn’t match the visual of the blood smeared across his shirt and dripping off his hands. Peter furrowed his brow and fought to piece together where he’d seen the human before. With fever and infection clouding his thoughts his memory felt shattered. When the man pulled away he still had a small amount of blood on his shirt but the illusion of his hands also being coated in crimson had vanished. Confused by the delusions Peter weld his eyes shut and whimpered.

A sudden cool contact across his forehead forced Peter to open his eyes again. Looking worried the human was pressing a wet wash cloth against his heated skin. Peter hadn’t even really realized how high his fever was until he was offered a small amount of relief from it. He still couldn’t remember who the human was, but he seemed genuinely compassionate. As far as Peter was concerned it was a rare trait to find in a human, but he was grateful for it at the moment. Exhausted and tired of being in pain Peter closed his eyes and hoped to pass out once more.

“It’s going to be okay, help will be her soon. Just stay with me.”

‘I don’t know if I can.’ Peter thought to himself. ‘I don’t even know if I want to...’


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter Fifteen

"I know it hurts, I'm sorry..."

Sitting in a chair next to the bed Neal reached out and gently ran his fingertips through Peter's hair in an attempt to sooth him. Staring sightlessly at a point a thousand miles away Peter kept swallowing convulsively between shallow panting breaths. Neal hated watching Peter suffer, made even worse by the fact that he didn't know how to help. He had lost count of how many times he had apologized, despite the fact that he wasn't sure if Peter could understand him. Even with his eyes open he never managed to focus on anything other than the pain. Even if Peter was in a state to understand him a simple apology was probably more insulting than helpful.

Welding his eyes shut Peter ground his teeth together and growled before suddenly relaxing completely. He had gone through the cycle of battling to stay awake before passing out nearly a dozen times, the length of time that he was out was getting longer and the amount of time he was able to stay awake was drastically decreasing each time. Neal checked his pulse again and found Peter's heart racing like a humming bird's.

Neal glanced at his phone to see what time it was, it was just past eleven. He had been waiting nearly four hours for Mozzie to find a vet willing to help. Neal wasn't sure how much longer Peter could wait, it almost seemed like a miracle that he'd lasted this long. Getting to his feet Neal paced restlessly for a moment before sitting back down.

Feeling increasingly helpless Neal fished the washcloth out of the bowl of cold water and rung it out. The treatment wasn't really helping against the fever but Neal couldn't just sit there doing nothing. Pressing the cloth against Peter's cheek he ran it down along the side of his throat. Neal was careful not to touch the back of his neck, any time he'd brushed against the scar Peter flinched even if he was otherwise unresponsive. Neal wasn't sure if the scar was still physically painful or if it just triggered memories, either way it was a source of stress that Peter didn't need right now so he kept clear of it.

Removing as much of the sweat off Peter's face and throat as he could Neal turned his attention back to the angry marks across his shoulders wondering if there was anything more he could do. Neal's own skin ached just looking at the infected cuts. Taking a closer look there seemed to be something wrong with the gash directly between his shoulder blades. Touching the area gingerly Neal realized that soaked in the blood was a strip of cloth embedded in the wound, most likely from the shirt he'd been wearing when Cheng had attacked him. Neal didn't dare remove it himself right now, but if Mozzie couldn't find help he was going to have to try.

"No matter what happens I'm not going to let Cheng just get away with this." Neal promised. "I know you said you didn't want revenge, but you at least deserve justice."

Neal put his hand over Peter's and sighed heavily. He knew that actual justice wasn't going to be something he could offer Peter, revenge would have to do. He hadn't extended an offer to the next game to Cheng yet, but he doubted that he was going to say no. Thinking about Cheng just made Neal angrier, he had originally planed to just scam him out of a few million, but he was starting to think about ways to take him down completely.

Before Neal could become too lost in dark thoughts of Cheng there was a heavy knock at the door. The sound startled Peter awake with a sharp gasp. Looking panicked he gripped the sheet and tried to push himself up. Neal put his hand on Peter's arm to encourage him to stay still. Jerking away from the touch Peter curled his lip to expose his teeth in a snarl like an angry dog. A second knock at the door agitated Peter further as he tried and failed to get up.

"It's okay, Peter, just relax. That should be the vet."

Peter did calm, but only because he had already run out of energy needed to fight. Laying still he closed his eyes as he quickly lost consciousness again. After taking a second to ensure that he wasn't going to try to get up again Neal hurried to the door. The man who had knock was already heading back towards the stairs. He had a large rolling suitcase and a back pack slung over one shoulder with him.

"Wait, are you the vet?" Neal asked hopefully.

"Dr. Taylor." The vet turned back around. "You're Mr. Halden?"

"Nick." Neal nodded. "Thank you so much for coming. Please, come inside."

Taylor hesitated for a moment, glancing back down the stairs. Neal knew the look well actually, he was a man suspecting some sort of trap. Neal opened the door wider and took a step back to prove that no one else was hiding in the apartment behind him. The light from inside caught his shirt and revealed the blood that had stained it from when he had been cleaning Peter's back. Seeing the blood the vet decided that trap or not he needed to investigate.

Neal stepped back further to invite the older man inside. He was casually dressed and his disheveled graying hair suggested that he had been in bed when he'd gotten the 'house call' request. Coming inside the vet caught sight of Peter. He instantly dropped the back back and left the rolling suitcase by the door to rush over to Peter's side. He gave the damage across his back a quick inspection before he carded his hand into Peter's hair. Neal stepped up next to Taylor and noticed the sorrowful expression that had fallen across the vet's strong features.

Neal hadn't expected to see such an emotional response from the medical professional, but in a way he was grateful that Taylor looked truly horrified by the condition of his new patient. Part of him had feared that the vet would just callously advise Neal to euthanize Peter. At least it was clear that the vet cared for the Animula that he treated.

"Peter..." Taylor sighed sadly. "You old Grizzly Bear, you just never give up do you? I would have thought that you would have died of heartbreak years ago. What have they done to you now?"

"Wait, you know him?" Neal asked surprised.

"Our paths have crossed a few times over the years, there aren't very many vets that specialize in Animula left anymore."

"Can you hel..."

Having noticed that Peter was starting to surface again Neal had reached out to brush his temple when the vet stopped him by aggressively grabbing his wrist. Looking up at Taylor Neal was shocked to see rage burning in his pale blue eyes.

"Don't you touch him," Taylor hissed darkly "don't you *dare* touch him again."

"What?" Neal asked confused.

"It's bad enough to beat him in the first place, but there is no excuse for waiting until he's at death's door to get him care for it." Taylor spat angrily. "I would take him away from you here and now if I thought he had any chance of surviving the move. I should give you a few lashes, see how you like it, you sick fu..."

"Wait, I didn't do this to him!" Neal exclaimed in horror. "I ju..."

"Don't lie to me. These marks are less than a week old."

"I just met him yesterday."

"Met him?" Taylor questioned Neal's choice of words.

"Won him." Neal admitted miserably. "I...I didn't even really understand what the bet entailed, I was drunk, maybe even drugged."

"You didn't go through the Market to get him?"

"No. I just woke up and he was here, calling me 'Master'. I didn't hurt him, I swear."

"You have papers for him?"

"I do."

The vet released Neal's wrist but continued to regard him with distrust. Neal couldn't blame him for assuming he had beaten Peter, but he was still sickened by the idea. Neal went over to where he kept the forged paper work. Taylor inspected them for a moment. He furrowed his brow and handed them back. While Neal put them away Taylor carefully rolled Peter's arm over and looked at the raised healing tattoo. Taylor turned on Neal once again and studied him for a moment.

"I didn't even know he was injured until a few hours ago. I would have gotten him help right away if I'd known. I did make it worse, I dragged him half way across the city today, he should have been resting." Neal fretted as he raked his hand through his hair. "I don't know why didn't he just tell me he was in pain..."

"He wouldn't have dared show weakness to a new owner." Taylor explained, his expression softening somewhat. "You really don't have any experience with Animula do you?"

"No, but I'm learning fast, and so far I'm horrified."

"That's a good place to start."

"It is?"

"If nothing else it proves you have a good heart."

"I can't imagine anyone would be okay with anyone being treated like this."

"You'd be surprised."

"Does this mean you'll help him?"

"Of course I will." Taylor said warmly. "I'm sorry for accusing you, I'm just growing so weary of helping my patients only to leave them in the hands of monsters."

"I understand."

Taylor went back over to where he had left his equipment and brought it over. Trying to just stay out of the way Neal sat cross legged on the bed on the far side of Peter to allow the vet room to work. Taylor took notice as Neal reached out and took Peter's hand in his own. Taylor set an IV port in the back of Peter's other hand and after pushing a few syringes of antibiotics and other medications through it he hooked it up to a bag of fluids that he hung from the headboard. Taylor instructed Neal to watch carefully since he'd be responsible for Peter's recovery as he taught him the basics of wound care.

Neal had to turn away when Taylor pulled the strip of gory cloth free from the wound. Taylor noted that the cloth was one of the main sources of infection, having giving bacteria a perfect place to breed. Cleaning the area more aggressively than Neal had dared Taylor ended with a series of layered wet and dry bandages that would need regular changing. To Neal's relief Peter remained mercifully locked in sleep during the treatment. Exhausted from the long day Neal listened to Taylor's remaining instructions as closely as he could. Eventually the vet bushed Peter's hair back affectionately and took a step back.

"Alright, I've done what I can for now. I will leave you with everything you need to care for him for the next few days. I'll come back for a follow up and you can call me any time. However I want you to understand that even under the best care there is still a very good chance that he is could die, the infection has really set in."

"Thank you for all your help. What do I owe you?"

"Nothing. Just promise me that if he lives you'll treat him well, or better yet that you'll treat him right."

"How do I do that?" Neal asked seriously. "I don't mean medically, I just mean in general. I fear that so far I've done more harm than good with him. I honestly don't even know what is even considered 'right' for him. I don't know what he wants or even what he expects."

"It's simple: he wants compassion and consideration, he expects pain and humiliation."

"That's horrible. I never realized Animula were treated so poorly."

"Not all are, Peter's special, and he's suffered for it." Taylor said. "He's more broken than most, but show him enough of what he wants you'll eventually change his mind about what he expects."

"I'll do my best."

"You're already doing far better than most."

"I still don't think I can be a 'Master'." Neal admitted.

"Peter doesn't need a Master, he needs a friend."

"What about the 'fifth rule'?"

"The what?"

"Peter told me the five rules for owning an Animula." Neal explained.

"There are only four."

"He said there was a fifth one, that I shouldn't ever mistake him for someone who could be my friend, no exception."

"No, I've never heard that. I mean it is generally understood that a human wouldn't even bother to try and make friends with an Animula. However he made that a rule himself."

"Why?"

"To keep you at a distance."

"It didn't work." Neal smiled.

"No, but it does tell you his mind set. Don't expect him to change or to trust you overnight. If you two are going to make this work it is going to take time, you'll be breaking rules he's lived with his entire life."

"Don't worry, I'm good at breaking rules...I've been doing it my entire life."


	16. Chapter 16

“Come on, Peter, you have to wake up.”

Neal carded his hand into Peter’s hair to encourage him to open his eyes. When he didn’t respond Neal pressed his fingers against Peter’s throat to check his pulse. Taylor had warned him to keep a watch for rapid heart rate as a sign of septic shock. At the same time he’d basically said that if Peter’s sepsis deteriorated into true shock that he’d most likely die within hours. Peter’s heart was beating faster than Neal would like, but it was under 120 beats per minute which was a positive sign.

The vet had injected Peter with a broad spectrum antibiotic that was going to need to be repeated four times a day. He had also given him something for fever but Peter’s skin was still dangerously heated. Neal looked up at the bag of IV fluids that was hanging from his headboard with the clear line that lead down to a needle that was embedded in the back of Peter’s hand and secured with tape.

“You should be in the ICU at the hospital.”

Laying on his stomach every breath looked as though it could easily be Peter’s last. Neal noticed that the large absorbent pad that Taylor had pressed against Peter’s injuries was soaking through already with a mix of blood and a clear yellowish discharge. The constant loss of fluids was the main reason Neal wanted Peter to wake up, the IV fluids could only do so much. Peter needed to be drinking on his own if he was going to survive.

Neal was nervous about changing the bandaging across Peter’s shoulder, but avoiding it was just going to make things worse. Heading over to the sink Neal scrubbed his hands and pulled on a pair of latex gloves before returning to peel away the bandage. He’d already seen the damage when he’d cut Peter’s shirt away, and when Taylor had been working on it, but it was still startling and nauseating to see again.

Looking down on Peter’s ruined skin Neal was less sure than ever about his ability to keep the man alive. The bleeding had stopped for the most part, but the entire area across his upper back looked raw and painful. Going over to the kitchen table that held an array of medical supplies left by the vet Neal picked up one of the bottles of saline to clean up the wounds. He’d been instructed to clean and change the bandages four to five times a day and to ensure the open wound didn’t dry out or become too wet. Neal had expected Taylor to stitch the wounds closed but the vet explained that they would heal better this way.

Neal brought the bottle of saline and a package of gauze back over to Peter. He barely even knew where to start the damage seemed so overwhelming. The edges of the fresh cuts were a bright angry red, the ones that had started to heal were covered in a yellow exudate. The color of the healing wounds had alarmed Neal but Taylor assured that it was actually just part of the process. Neal soaked one of the gauze pads in saline and reached out to begin cleaning the residual blood. This time Peter jerked violently at being touched. He opened his eyes but failed to really connect with the world around him. Neal stopped cleaning not wanting to startle him with what was going to be a painful treatment.

“Peter...”

“I...I’m not stealing...” Peter whimpered. “I swear...”

“Stealing?” Neal repeated. “I don’t think you’ve been stealing.”

“I just transposed the numbers in the ledger. It was an honest mistake.” Peter continued barely audibly. “Why would I steal? What would I even do with the money? Please...”

Hearing the pleading tone in Peter’s quiet rambling Neal realized that he was reliving some past abuse. Believing he was about to beaten for some minor transgression Peter weld his eyes shut and gripped down on the covers to brace himself. Neal put the saline and gauze down, not wanting to touch Peter’s wounds while he was expecting punishment. He didn’t want Peter seeing him as the enemy, being delusional Peter wouldn’t be able to understand that he was trying to help.

Kneeling down to bring himself to Peter’s eye level Neal reached out and brushed the back of his hand against Peter’s cheek. It was instinct for Neal to try to use touch to calm Peter since it worked so well on himself. Anytime he’d ever been truly sick it had always brought him comfort when someone had been there with a gentle touch to let him know he wasn’t alone. Peter didn’t react as favorably to contact. Jerking away as best he could Peter snapped his golden eyes open and stared fearfully at Neal.

“It’s okay, I’m not going to hurt you.”

When Peter didn’t relax Neal took a few steps back and held up his hands to show that he wasn’t armed in any way. Managing to focus Peter watched Neal’s every move carefully. When Neal was what Peter arbitrarily decided was a safe distance away he tried moving. His breath hissed across his teeth as he struggled to sit up. Neal wanted to help but he knew if he stepped closer that Peter would either lash out at him or more likely cower away. Neal was impressed that Peter was able to make it up and sit on the edge of the bed, however he was shaking violently with the effort that it had taken. Looking down at the needle in his hand Peter reached over to remove it.

“Don’t pull that out.” Neal said quickly fearing that he wouldn’t be able to put it back. “Please, it’s helping you.”

Peter froze as he tried to make a decision as to if he was going to listen or not. Neal took another step back and smiled at him encouragingly. Looking disoriented Peter slowly let go of the IV line. Breathing heavily Peter looked around the apartment, not looking like he recognized any of it. Turning his attention back to Neal he lost his focus again. He shook his head to try and clear it as he winced in pain. Neal wasn’t sure what to do next, Peter didn’t look particularly lucid as he sat trembling on the edge of the bed.

“Peter...”

“Whatever I did, I’m sorry, I’ll do better.” Peter interrupted.

“No, I...”

“I just need to know what you want.”

“I don’t want anything. I didn’t do this to you.” Neal assured. “Do you remember me at all?”

Peter furrowed his brow at the question. Neal remained ready to step in if he lost consciousness again, and it looked like that was a real danger. It was taking Peter an extended amount of time to react as the fever, pain, and medications slowed his thinking. Neal waited to see if Peter could recall anything over the past two days, worrying that very little of it had been truly positive. Neal cringed slightly when Peter turned his forearm over and studied the new tattoo that was still raised and red from healing.

“Water.”

“I can get you some water.” Neal nodded. “In fact you need to be drinking.”

“No, that’s what I remember. You offered me some bottled water so I wouldn’t have to drink from the sink.”

“That’s right.”

“Master....” Peter paused as he concentrated on coming up with a name.

“Neal.”

Peter nodded vacantly and suddenly got to his feet only to slowly get down on his knees. Sitting back on his heels he rested his hands in his lap and waited motionlessly.

“What are you doing?”

“You asked me to kneel.”

“No.” Neal couldn’t help but smile. “That’s my name. N-e-a-l.”

Peter thought about the information for a moment before he nodded. He fought to keep his eyes open until Neal shifted his weight and then he snapped back to attention. He visibly tried to control his shaking but failed. Peter didn’t look comfortable on the floor, but he clearly wasn’t going to move without permission.

“You can get back up.”

“I...I don’t think that I can.” Peter admitted.

“Can I help you?”

Peter nodded slightly but he still tensed when Neal slowly stepped closer. Neal hated being feared but he understood it. He doubted that he would be as calm as Peter was right now if he’d woken up in a great deal of pain in an unfamiliar place with a stranger who represented a group that had hurt him in the past. Rather than taking Peter by the arm to help him up he simply offered him his hands. Peter hesitated before reaching up with both hands and taking the offer.

“One, two, three...”

Neal counted to help Peter coordinate the assistance. Peter failed the first time to get all the way to his feet and they had to try again. Finally getting up he was quickly forced to sit down on the bed. Neal stayed close for a moment to make sure he wasn’t going to pass out or fall over. When Peter looked somewhat steady Neal backed up again. He was quickly learning that Peter was far more comforted by being given space than anything else.

“Thank you.”

“Any time.” Neal smiled. “It really would be good if you could drink something.”

Rather than forcing Peter to agree to being waited on Neal just turned and walked over to the fridge. Grabbing a bottle of water Neal cracked the seal on the top thinking that Peter probably didn’t have to strength to do so himself at the moment. When Neal came back over Peter was pouring all of his effort and concentration into remaining upright. Neal offered him the water bottle but when he reached out for it his hand was trembling so violently that he couldn’t take it.

“Here...”

Neal held Peter’s wrist to help steady it. Peter was able to get his hand around the water bottle and Neal helped him guide it to his lips. Parched from the dehydration Peter drank at the water greedily. He finished about half of it before he had to stop. Gritting his teeth to keep from vomiting he automatically pushed Neal away. Neal took a step back but stayed close, Peter’s skin had turned ivory pale and he doubted that he was going to stay conscious for much longer.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine...”

Peter had barely finished the words when he arched back as he was struck with a violent seizure. Neal dropped the water bottle and stepped in to keep Peter from falling off the edge of the bed. He didn’t want Peter laying back in fear of making his back worse than it already was. Neal slipped one hand behind Peter’s neck and the other around his lower back and stepped in close enough to hold him against his chest to keep him from falling either back or to the floor. Peter convulsed sickeningly in his arms for a full minute before relaxing. Once he was sure it was over Neal laid him back on the bed on his stomach. Checking Peter’s pulse once again he found that it was racing out of control.

“You aren’t going to make it...are you?”


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Absolutely broke my heart to write this chapter...

Chapter Seventeen

 

“Hmmmm...that’s not good.”

“Peter?” Elizabeth asked concerned. “What’s wrong?”

“These numbers aren’t adding up.” Peter said as he tapped on the page he was looking at with his pen.

“What?”

“There’s a good deal of money missing.”

“Maybe it’s just a mistake?”

“At first glance it looks like one, but a closer inspection proves it to be deliberate. I found the same ‘mistake’ in several places. Someone’s embezzling from multiple accounts.” Peter leafed through a few of the reports on the desk. “They’ve actually done a really good job at hiding it and they haven’t been too greedy, but theft is theft. We’d better tell Renner.”

“No.” Elizabeth said quickly. “You can’t tell Renner.”

“Why wouldn’t we...” Peter stopped as his heart suddenly slammed against his ribs in realization. “Elizabeth, no, please, please tell me this isn’t you.”

“I’m sorry, Peter, I’m so sorry.” Elizabeth apologized as her eyes brightened with tears.

“Wh...why?”

“I didn’t have a choice. I didn’t have any other way to afford the taxes on you. I know I told you I could, and that first year we were fine, but after that...”

Elizabeth didn’t bother finishing, it didn’t matter the damage was already done. She was staring at Peter in a silent plea for his forgiveness. A sickening pit opened up in Peter’s stomach as he realized just how much trouble they were in. Pushing himself away from the desk he got to his feet and encouraged Elizabeth to do the same. He pulled her into a comforting embrace and held her tightly. Elizabeth wrapped her arms around his waist and clung to him as though someone was about to take him away. With a heavy heart Peter realized that was exactly what was probably going to happen.

“You should have told me.” Peter said quietly.

“You would have insisted that I sell you back to the Market.”

“To keep you from becoming a criminal, of course I would have.”

“I couldn’t do it. I knew you’d turn yourself over before letting me do this or running. I had to keep it a secret.”

“We need plan, you could end up in prison for this.”

“I don’t regret a single moment.” Elizabeth insisted. “I love you.”

“I...”

Peter stopped cold as his collar suddenly gave off a high pitch beep which gave him exactly one second warning that it was about to go off. It wasn’t nearly enough time to prepare himself, but no amount of time would have been. He was able to jerk away from Elizabeth to ensure that he wouldn’t hurt her. With a sinister crackling the energy it gave off bit down on his nervous system and lanced a searing phantom pain down his spine. Peter gasped violently with a strangled cry of pain as he dropped to his knees. Pitching forward onto his hands he dug his fingers into the carpet as the breath taking pain escalated.

“Peter!” Elizabeth cried.

Peter tried to assure her through the haze of pain that he was okay, but he couldn’t find his voice. The correction usually only lasted a second but this time it seemed more intense and it didn’t relent right away. On his hands and knees with every muscle pulling tight Peter just fought to keep from blacking out. When the collar went cold again Peter relaxed suddenly and collapsed the rest of the way to the floor. He felt Elizabeth’s hand in his hair, she was talking but he couldn’t understand what she was saying. She helped him onto his side as he slowly began to recover.

“Peter, someone’s coming.” Elizabeth said anxiously.

When Renner stepped into the room followed by two people Peter didn’t recognize Peter poured all of his strength into getting to his knees to put himself between Renner and Elizabeth. He could tell by the look on Renner’s face that he’d heard their entire conversation. The smug expression on his face said it all. Peter tried to get to his feet but as it was he needed Elizabeth’s help just to stay on his knees. With his system still recovering from the collar and being cornered by the humans Peter was having difficulty even thinking straight.

“Renner...” Elizabeth snarled.

“Miss. Mitchell, or is it Mrs. Animula?” Renner asked coldly.

“What did you do?!” Elizabeth demanded.

“Isn’t that obvious?” Renner smiled. “I bugged your office and I reprogramed his collar passcode to include those three little magical words.”

“You had no right to do that!”

“Sue me. Better yet save your lawyer fees for your own trial.” Renner said before he turned to the man and woman who had joined him. “These are Agents Jones and Berrigan of the FBI, White Collar division. They’ve actually been investigating you for a few weeks now, but I believe they have more than enough evidence for a strong embezzlement case now that you’ve basically confessed and your pet has sniffed out the start of the paper trail for us.”

“This...isn’t her fault,” Peter panted “it was me.”

“No one would ever believe that even if it was true.” Renner said.

“I’m sorry, Miss Mitchell,” Diana said gently “you need to come with us.”

“No, wait. Wh...what about Peter?”

“He’ll be impounded at the Market.” Jones replied solemnly.

“No! You can’t send him back there!”

“Maybe I’ll look into buying him once he’s released from evidence.” Renner smirked. “Shouldn’t set me back too much, he won’t be worth much now.”

Peter could feel that Elizabeth was about to launch herself at Renner in pure rage, which would make matters far worse for her. Doing the only thing he could think of to stop her Peter forced himself to his feet and went for Renner himself. He knew he was never going to see Elizabeth after this anyway and killing Renner seemed like a cause worth dying for. The two Agents were clearly surprised to have Peter be a threat and didn’t react in time. Renner however looked like he’d been waiting for the attack.

“Pareo.” Renner sneered calmly at Peter.

The old command worked just as effectively as the new one. From Peter’s perspective the collar acted as though someone had grabbed him by it and yanked him to the floor. He’d never had the collar used twice in such rapid succession before and not having fully recovered from it the first time he discovered the second correction far more powerful. Crashing to the floor at Renner’s feet he screamed as his body rebelled against him. Everything spun around him as his vision turned momentarily red. Rendered nearly senseless Peter jerked away when he felt someone touch his face, he realized too late that it was Elizabeth who had scrambled over to him to try and comfort him.

“Get her out of here.” Renner hissed at the Agents.

Finding himself unable to move in any useful way Peter just looked up fearfully at the pair of Agents who had stepped forward to take Elizabeth into custody. Neither one of them looked very happy to be in on the arrest, but they had a job to do. They had to physically pull Elizabeth away from Peter as they forced her to her feet. Panting heavily Peter could only watch as his muscles refused to respond to his demands. He wasn’t sure at what point Elizabeth had broken down into tears but they streaked her face now.

“Peter.” She whimpered.

“Elizabeth, I...”

“No!” Elizabeth cried in panic knowing what he was about to say and the consequences.

“...I love you.”

Peter jolted awake with the memory of being separated from Elizabeth crushing down on him. Setting off the collar for a third time in a row on the high setting had come so close to killing him that even the vet at the Market had pronounced him dead on arrival before taking a closer look and finding a small spark of life left in him. He guessed that he probably would have been euthanized anyway, but he remained under Elizabeth’s name until the end of her trial so they had to care for him. It had taken two weeks for Peter to be able to speak and nearly a month before he’d managed to walk properly again. He still wasn’t entirely convinced that his heart had ever truly started beating again, there had been an emptiness in his chest ever since that day. He also had no idea if Elizabeth knew he was still alive or not.

Cold sweat from the nightmare rolled off Peter’s skin causing him to shiver. The motion angered the marks across his back and they blazed with an agony that threatened to tear his sanity away from him. Not wanting to cry out he bit down on his lower lip to keep quiet, he didn’t want Cheng knowing how much pain he was in after this latest thrashing. With his mind still spinning from fever and infection Peter closed his eyes and prayed that he would just lose consciousness again.

“He looks terrible, Neal.”

Keeping his eyes closed even though he was facing away from the others in the room Peter’s skin chilled at the sound of Mozzie’s voice. It reminded him that he was no longer with Cheng, but Mozzie made him almost as nervous. The last time the strange man had been in the apartment he had been trying to talk Neal into either handing him over to the Market or getting a collar. It had taken all of Peter’s strength to stay quiet while Mozzie casually insisted that Neal collar him with the cruel device before even giving him a chance. At the time he hadn’t dared show how deeply he didn’t want to be collared in fear that Neal would realize how effective it was and possibly influence his decision to try it.

“Still think he’s dangerous?” Neal challenged Mozzie.

“I suppose you’re the one who broke all that glass?”

“That was...not his fault.” Neal answered evasively as he glanced over at the glassware that he’d forgotten to pick up. “He’s not all with it, he’s already had three seizures.”

“That’s not a good sign. Neal if he dies in your apartm...”

“I don’t want to think about that, okay? Let’s just focus on what’s important right now.”

“Fine.” Mozzie sighed. “How can I help?”

“Now you’re willing to help?”

“I found you a vet didn’t I? Just because I don’t trust him doesn’t mean I want to suffer like this.” Mozzie replied indignantly.

“Glad to hear it. I need you to get something for me.”

“What do you need?”

Peter wanted to hear the rest of the conversation, terrified that Neal was going to ask his friend to hunt down a collar for him. He remembered charging after Neal and slamming into the kitchen counter instead, but he couldn’t recall why he’d gone to attack his new Master. In the end it really didn’t matter, he had tried to hurt him and that was reason enough for Neal to fear him. Peter was so consumed with fearful thoughts of what he’d done that he lost his concentration on the humans in the room. He felt like he might have even passed out briefly as the conversation between Neal and Mozzie seemed to jump forward.

“Can you do that for me?” Neal asked.

“I’ll have it by morning.”

Peter’s heart sank as he started to pant for breath. He didn’t know what time it was now, but he knew he wouldn’t live long past dawn. Continuing to pretend that he was asleep Peter tried to take stock in how much strength he had left, he knew it wasn’t much but it would have to do. He’d fight to the death before he would allow himself to be collared again. His own death or Neal’s, he didn’t care which one.


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter Eighteen

 

“Thanks, Moz. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Try to get some sleep yourself, Neal. Just...be careful.”

“I’ll be fine.” Neal rolled his eyes. “He can barely sit up.”

“I know, but there is more than one way to get hurt, Neal, and he may...”

“Go.” Neal gave Mozzie a gentle push to encourage him to leave.

“I’ll be back in the morning, hopefully you won’t need it tonight.”

“I hope I never need it, but better safe than sorry.”

“Now there are words I’m not used to hearing from you.” Mozzie mocked. “He’s changing you already.”

“Goodnight, Mozzie.”

Mozzie gave Peter one last nervous look before leaving. Mozzie had asked more about the glass but Neal hadn’t explained further about Peter trying to attack him while in his delirium. Mozzie was distrustful of Peter as it was. Although when he thought about it Neal decided that Mozzie over protectiveness was based more on the fact that he was always the one who had to pick up the pieces when Neal ended up with his heart broken. As much as he hated to admit it his relationships tended to end horrifically. He still couldn’t even think about Kate without his chest hurting.

“But this isn’t the same.”

Having been reminded of the glass that Peter had broken Neal took a broom and went over to the mess. After taking a moment to sweep up the glass he caught sight of forgotten hat band laying on the kitchen table. Recalling how strongly Peter had reacted when he’d stepped out of the back room with the band Neal realized that to Peter’s infection addled mind it probably resembled one of the collars that he was so terrified of. Feeling guilty that he hadn’t thought of it at the time Neal tossed the band in the trash to keep Peter from seeing it again.

“Must be a truly cruel device.” Neal sighed to himself. “And yet still legal.”

Neal walked over to where Peter was still passed out on the bed. He had changed the gauze dressings and hour before Mozzie had arrived and it should be good until morning. It was getting late but Neal wasn’t particularly tired. Peter had slept through the day with only a few moments of unproductive consciousness. Watching Peter Neal realized that he was breathing heavily and was shivering slightly. Neal had become hyper vigilant to Peter’s body language now that he had to keep an eye out for seizures.

“Peter? Are you awake?”

“...yes.” Peter admitted opening his eyes and turning his head so that he could look at Neal.

“Did you hear Mozzie and I talking?”

Peter hesitated, clearly not wanting to admit to eavesdropping, but also not wanting to lie.

“Well, whatever you heard or didn’t hear, don’t pay any attention to it.” Neal assured. “Mozzie’s a good guy, he’ll come around soon. He’s never been quick to trust, just give him some time.”

A flash of what looked like rage glittered in Peter’s golden eyes, but it was so quickly replaced by an expression of pain so that Neal couldn’t be sure if he’d seen it or not. Like the last time he’d woken Peter began to struggle with getting up. Once again Neal kept back, knowing that the best help he could be was to be no help at all. Peter put his palms against the bed to push himself up. As soon as he tried to use the muscles across his shoulders he cried out sharply before he was even able to move. It was the first time Neal had heard him really vocalized any of his pain.

“Stay down, the vet left something for pain. He warned me to only use it in emergencies since it’s going to slow your breathing down, but it looks like you could use it.”

Peter didn’t argue the point either way, but he also gave up on trying to move. Neal headed back over to the table and sorted through the medical supplies again. He found the small vial of dilaudid. Neal read the instructions the vet had left with the powerful morphine derivative carefully before drawing the suggested dose into a small needle. Neal only needed the sharp needle tip to draw out the medication so he placed the cap back on it and twisted it off. The rest of the syringe was designed to click into an access on the IV that was embedded in the back of Peter’s hand.

Neal grabbed a small packet that held an alcohol wipe in it and walked back over to the bed, it didn’t escape his notice that Peter watched his every motion like a hawk. Neal couldn’t blame him, he’d probably spent his entire life on guard. Neal sat in the chair that he’d pulled next to the bed earlier. Still watching him warily Peter looked for all the world like he was calculating some sort of move. Neal assumed he was preparing to move away if he had to. Neal smiled reassuringly trying his best to put his patient at ease.

“Can I see your hand?” Neal asked.

“What is that?”

“Dilaudid. I haven’t tried it myself, but I have had morphine in the past, and it was...well in all honesty it was way more fun than it had any rights to be. I can see why people get addicted to it.”

Peter made no move to offer Neal his hand despite the fact that he was visibly in distress. Neal sighed heavily and sat back.

“Peter, I’m not going to force this on you, but there really is no reason for you to be in so much pain. I’ll keep an eye on you, make sure you keep breathing. The doctor left a small amount of adrenaline to get you going again if your breathing gets too slow. Please, trust me.”

It still took Peter a full minute to decide, but eventually he moved his hand to the edge of the bed to give Neal access to it. Neal put the syringe on the bed while he worked the small blue cap off the IV port and used the alcohol pad to clean it before he clicked the syringe in place. Neal had only gotten about half of the medication pushed into Peter’s blood when he started to relax. Neal finished the rest of the syringe and Peter took a few deep calm breaths as the drugs washed away a majority of his pain.

“That looks like it acted fast.” Neal smiled. “How do you feel?”

Peter’s only response was a quick chuckle. Neal smiled at the positive sign. Able to relax and breath some of the color slowly returned to Peter’s once ashen face. Succumbing to the effects of the powerful opioid Peter nuzzled the pillow with a content moan before closing his eyes. Without thinking Neal reached out and touched Peter’s arm to wake him. For the first time Peter didn’t flinch at being touched, he just opened his eyes.

“You really should try to stay awake.” Neal said. “At least for a little while.”

“‘kay.” Peter replied slurring the word.

“I’m sorry for how I first treated you.” Neal apologized.

Peter shrugged slightly as he fought against heavy eyelids. “I’m used to it.”

“That doesn’t make it right. You deserve better.”

“...you sound like Elizabeth.” Peter muttered with a smile.

“I’m going to take that as a compliment.” Neal smiled as well.

“The highest...”

 

Peter started to drift off again as his breathing started to become dangerously slow. Worried about him going into respiratory failure Neal reached out and rubbed Peter’s arm to wake him again. When that didn’t work he put his hand against Peter’s cheek. Peter fluttered his eyes open but he didn’t pull away like he usually did. Neal knew it was the drugs keeping Peter calm but he hoped that at some point Peter would be able to relax like this without them.

“Stay with me, okay?”

“What you asked Mozzie to get...” Peter trailed off the question.

“It’s just a precaution, I hope I won’t have to use it.”

Peter stared at Neal pleadingly as tears pooled in the corners of his eyes. He looked so devastated all of a sudden.

“Peter?” Neal asked concerned. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Peter sighed as he closed his eyes again. He settled in the bed further, looking impossibly comfortable. “Thank you for a pain free night, Neal.”

“You’re welcome, Peter.”

“...I’m still going to kill you in the morning.”


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter Nineteen

 

Slowly opening his eyes Peter was greeted by the first light of dawn that was casting a red stain across the wooden floor of Neal’s apartment. With some of the Dilaudid still swimming in his veins Peter found himself in less pain, but also in less control of his thoughts. Propping himself up on his elbows he looked around somewhat confused. Everything came back to him as he spotted Neal sleeping on the couch with his arm draped over his eyes.

Watching Neal laying vulnerable less than twenty feet away Peter fought with himself on what his next move should be. If he was going to murder his new Master now would be the time to strike. Peter furrowed his brow as he distinctly remembered warning Neal that he was going to kill him in the morning while under the influence of the powerful drugs. Sleeping peacefully near by Neal clearly still didn’t see him as a threat.

“If you don’t fear me attacking you, why are you insisting on a collar?”

Having asked the question out loud the only answer that came to Peter’s mind was that it wasn’t fear that drove Neal’s decision but rather a desire to control and degrade him. Neal had already shown that he didn’t know how to interact with Animula, a collar would be a simple way to remain dominate at all times. Unlike Cheng most owners didn’t have a true taste for blood. Collars had been developed for ‘self defense’ against un unlikely attack, but they were quickly abused by owners to use for punishment for performance issues, or to inflate the egos of the users, or sometimes simply for human entertainment. Most of the owners from Peter’s past didn’t even have the strength to strike him hard enough to make him hesitant to misbehave again even if they wanted to. The collar was quick and easy to use, it rarely resulted in a physical mark, but it always left a lasting impression.

“The perfect passive aggressive punishment, easy to stay a gentleman if all it takes is a word.”

Muttering to himself Peter became less fearful and more angry. Quietly moving so that he was sitting up on the edge of the bed Peter had to pause for a moment as wave of vertigo washed over him. He could feel the heat as it radiated off his skin, but he didn’t care nor did he realize the effect it was having on his thought process. Looking down at the forged tattoo Peter ground his teeth in mounting rage. Neal was human, but he wasn’t a ‘Master’, he wasn’t even a legitimate owner. The fact that Neal had been fighting to keep him alive was lost on him at the moment as his thoughts became darker. Drugs, fever, and fear distorted his perception of the last few days.

“You have no right to collar me.” Peter hissed at the sleeping man quietly as he slowly got to his feet. “And I’m not going to even give you the chance.”

Having stayed up until the very early hours of the morning watching over Peter to ensure that he kept breathing Neal was sleeping heavily now. Peter froze as Neal moved him arm off his face and settled it on his chest. Panting for breath against his rage and a dangerously high fever Peter forced himself to remain standing. Once he was sure the Neal hadn’t woken Peter stepped forward, causing the IV line to pull tight.

Blinded to any pain he might be in by the adrenaline released from contemplating murder Peter yanked the needle out of the back of his hand and stalked over to where Neal was stretched out on the couch. The sun had fully risen now and the bright day was streaming in through the glass patio doors. A combination of the sixth sense that lets you know someone is close and Peter’s shadow falling over him finally woke Neal. He looked up at Peter and smiled brightly.

“Peter, you’re up ear...”

Neal stopped cold and gasped in shock when Peter barred his teeth at him like an angry lion seconds before he pounced on him. Grabbing the front of Neal’s shirt in both hands Peter used his purchase to haul him off the couch. Falling to the hardwood floor on his back and striking his head Neal didn’t have time to react before Peter drove his knee into his stomach. Knocked breathless by the nauseating blow Neal tried to draw breath only to find Peter’s forearm pressed firmly against his throat. With his knee still digging into Neal’s stomach Peter pinned him down as he leaned a majority of his weight onto the arm that he had across Neal’s throat.

Neal kicked uselessly, unable to get good traction against the polished wooden floor with just his socks on. With one arm trapped against his side by the couch Neal could only defend himself by bringing his right hand up and pushing against Peter’s chest. Neal was strong and fueled by fear, but Peter had all the leverage, a passionate rage, and a desire to kill that equally matched Neal’s desire to live. Snarling at Neal Peter fought to lean in harder while Neal strained to push his weight away. Swallowing convulsively Neal managed a few shallow gulping breaths. Weak from pain and sickness Peter wasn’t able to actually crush Neal’s trachea, however if he kept this pressure on him Neal would eventually pass out and then he’d be completely defenseless.

Struggling for air Neal slowly started to lose his ability to fight. Peter could feel Neal weaken but found that he couldn’t bring himself to put all of his force into a sharp blow that would end his young victim’s life. Neal stopped pushing against his attacker’s chest and moved to grip Peter’s arm. He didn’t dig his fingers into Peter’s flesh in a last ditch effort to cause pain, instead he held on the way a frightened child would hold a parent to seek comfort. Peter looked down at the terrified man pinned under him as the fog created in his mind from his previous rage began to dissipate. Neal’s eyes started to lose their focus and roll back to white as he lost his grip on Peter’s arm. With Neal losing consciousness Peter suddenly truly saw what he was doing. Realizing that he was about to take a life Peter jerked away from his captive.

Free from Peter’s suffocating weight Neal automatically gasped for breath. He hadn’t actually blacked out and now that he was able he scrambled back away from his attacker. Backing himself under the kitchen table Neal’s chest heaved as he coughed and sucked for breath. Disoriented by the unexpected assault Neal cowered from Peter rather than retaliated. Having expected Neal to react with lethal force once released Peter stared at Neal in confusion while Neal stared back at him in terror. He was shaking violently from the close call with death. Peter had never seen a human tremble in fear the way he had done so many times before, and he had certainly never had anyone look at him the way Neal was looking at him right now.

Kneeling on the floor Peter bowed his head in defeat. His previous anger had been replaced by a hollow numbness tainted with regret. A strained minute ticked by where neither one them moved. Eventually Neal took the chance that Peter was no longer a direct threat and he slowly crawled out from under the table. Peter looked up causing Neal to freeze in a crouched position. He risked a glance at the door, calculating a way to get there without risking being caught by Peter again. Peter found it surprisingly painful to have Neal terrified of him. His throat was turning a bright angry red and Peter could hear his wheezing breath.

“I’m sorry, Master Neal...” Peter apologized with most of the emotion drained from his voice. “I won’t let you collar me...one of us has to die, and I realize now that I would prefer that it was me. I don’t want to fight, I don’t want to be in pain, I don’t want to be afraid, I don’t want to be alone. I’m done. I can’t do this any more.”

“Wha...what?” Neal stuttered hoarsely. He slowly got to his feet but he needed to lean against the kitchen table for support.

“You don’t understand...it’s more than just the fear of pain...it’s the fear of wearing a constant reminder of my last moments with her. I can’t, I just can’t...and I won’t...”

“Peter, I...”

Neal was cut off as there was a knock at the door that startled them both. Mozzie didn’t wait for a response as he let himself into the apartment and stepped into the tense scene. Mozzie had entered with a triumphant look on his face with a black canvas case in is hands. However one look at the pair and he instantly became anxious. Peter looked over his shoulder at Mozzie with what he still assumed was a collar in the case, choking on his fear he was instantly seized by a violent fit of dry heaving.

“Peter...” Neal automatically stepped closer to help but then backed away again.

“Neal, what is going on?” Mozzie demanded. “Are you okay?”

“Mozzie, give us a moment.”

Peter managed to stop retching, with his arms wrapped around his stomach he just awaited his fate.

“Wha...”

“Mozzie,” Neal said more firmly despite his painful voice. “I need you to leave.”

“Neal...”

“Go.” Neal ordered. “*Now*.”


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys are still enjoying, I haven't gotten too much of a response on this site in general not sure if it's basic low interest in the story or if it's the fact that this is already posted in two places.

Chapter Twenty

With Mozzie gone Neal turned back to the broken man kneeling on his floor looking like he was waiting to be executed. Far from being fearful of retribution Peter just had that unfocused look in his gold ringed eyes that Neal had once assumed was just a default mode when waiting for orders, he saw it now for what it really was: a coping mechanism. Doctor Taylor had warned him that trust wasn't going to happen over night, but Neal hadn't realized how deep the Animula's fear truly ran.

Neal wasn't worried about another attack, Peter's defeated posture told him the fight was over, however he kept back a good ten feet to keep Peter from panicking to the point of making himself sick the way he had when Mozzie walked in. He knelt down to bring himself eye level with Peter. Having zoned out to keep from having to deal with the situation Peter didn't move.

"Peter?" Neal asked gently.

Staring at a random point on the floor with his head bowed Peter didn't react to his name. Sweat was dripping from his hair and rolling off his skin as his body fought the infection in his blood with fire. Neal knew that part of the attack had been fueled by delirium, but he also realized that it had mostly been his own fault. He had already seen how terrified Peter was of the prospect of being collared and yet he'd never bothered to take the time to make sure that Peter understood that he had no intention of using the cruel device. He had even gone so far as to ignore Peter's warning about killing him, chalking it up to the rambling that came with a heavy dose of pain killing drugs.

"Peter, I didn't send Mozzie to get a collar." Neal said even though he wasn't sure he actually had his attention. "I'm sorry, I thought you heard us talking. I had him get me an AED."

Peter didn't look up but he did knit his brow slightly in confusion.

"An Automatic External Defibrillator." Neal explained. "I wanted to be able to help you in case your heart stopped."

Hearing Neal's intentions Peter just closed his eyes for a moment. Neal waited, but Peter had become a living statue once again. Neal knew from experience that the Animula could remain motionless for hours if he felt he needed to.

"Peter? Do you understand?" Neal asked looking for a response. "I'm not going to hurt you, I've never wanted to hurt you."

"...you can't let me live after what I just did." Peter said quietly.

"What you just did?" Neal questioned. "You mean choosing to not murder me when you had every opportunity and every reason to want to do so?"

"I attacked you."

"You defended yourself from a perceived threat." Neal corrected.

"It's the same thing."

"It really isn't." Neal insisted. "In any case, I forgive you."

Looking ready to collapse Peter shook his head like a petulant child.

"Peter? What's wrong?"

"I don't want your forgiveness." Peter said coldly.

"Why not?"

"Because..." Peter hesitated "because I'm tired."

"You mean you want me to put you out of your misery." Neal said sadly. "I can't help you there, Peter. I'm no more of a murderer than you are."

Peter looked honestly disappointed to hear that Neal had no intention of retaliating for the attack. Understanding his sentiment but hoping to change his mind about 'suicide by owner' Neal got to his feet and slowly approach Peter. Peter didn't flinch or look up at him in fear like he usually did when Neal got too close. He had reached a point where he had nothing left to lose and therefore nothing left to fear. Neal offered his hands to Peter to help him to his feet. Peter looked up at the offer, but he didn't look like he was even considering taking it.

"Things are going to get better. I promise. Just give me a chance to prove myself to you."

Peter sighed as though the last thing he wanted at the moment was an act of kindness. Neal started to worry that it might be too late to mend things. Peter may end up proving to be like glass, still strong when simply cracked but once shattered nearly impossible to piece back together again. Determined to at least try Neal continued to hold his hands out.

"I don't expect to earn you trust in a day," Neal added "but we need to start somewhere."

Neal found himself holding his breath while he waited for Peter to make his decision. Peter stared up at Neal, making a point to make eye contact. When Neal didn't look away Peter finally reached up and accepted the offer. Neal smiled and helped haul Peter to his feet. Once he was sure that Peter had the strength to keep standing on his own he released him. Peter's hands hadn't been as warm as Neal had fear they'd be, along with the sweat it was a good sign that the fever was breaking for now.

"Thank you, Master Neal." Peter said sounding genuine.

"Just 'Neal', and you're welcome, Peter." Neal smiled. "I can't pretend to know what you've been through in the past, but I do want to stress again that you're safe here."

Peter glanced around the small well appointed apartment before welding his eyes shut. Looking unsteady on his feet Neal reached out and put his hand on Peter's upper arm to help balance him. Jumping slightly at being touched Peter ground his teeth together as he lost some of the color in his face.

"Peter?"

"I'm going to be sick."

"Ah. Not on the antique furniture please."

Peter managed a quick chuckle, it was the first mirthful sound Neal had heard from him. Neal turned Peter around to guide him towards the bathroom. Peter had barely eaten anything in the few days that he had been with Neal, but coming down off the adrenaline of the attack was enough to turn even an empty stomach. Peter made it into the bathroom before beginning to retch up the acid that had accumulated in his stomach. Neal had a hard enough time dealing with the blood, this was a proving too be worse. Afraid he was going to end up being sick as well Neal backed out of the bathroom.

"I'm going to find you some thing clean to wear."

Neal didn't wait for a response as retreated. He knew he should probably be staying to make sure Peter didn't have another seizure, but it had been almost twenty four hours since he'd last had one. There wasn't much he could do about them any, and Mozzie had taken the AED with him in his haste to leave. Neal felt bad for having ordered Mozzie away, but he just hadn't been able to deal with him and Peter at the same time. He would call Mozzie and apologize when things settled down a bit.

Opening his front door to step across the hall Neal found that Mozzie had left the small AED outside his door. Neal picked it and opened the case before putting it on the nightstand next to the bed. Neal heard the water turn on in the shower in the bathroom and wondered if he should make sure Peter didn't fall or otherwise hurt himself. He barely had the strength to stand and Neal was a little worried about leaving him in the shower alone. However he decided that a little privacy and dignity was far more important than safety at the moment.

Going across the hall to where Peter had been staying before he fell ill Neal noticed that he hadn't really moved into the space. He had a large suitcase that contained everything he owned in this world. Opening the case Neal couldn't help but notice that there were no personal items, not a single photo or keepsake of any kind, just clothing and toiletries. Neal didn't keep many reminders of the past himself, but he did have a handful of objects that were precious to him. Even the suitcase itself didn't seem very old, there was hardly any wear on it.

"No ties to the past, no faith in the present, and no hope for the future..."

Neal was amazed that Peter hadn't attacked an owner long ago until he realized that he was probably the first one to have ever even given Peter the opportunity. Masters probably didn't sleep ten feet away from their captives, and from his his fear of collars Neal assumed he'd probably worn one for a good portion of his life which would have made it nearly impossible to lash out without instantly being struck down. Knowing basic human nature, particularly the nature of those willing to own others, Neal doubted that it took something as extreme as an attack for Peter's previous owners to use the collar's power. After finding a pair of comfortable looking pajama pants in the case Neal returned to the apartment wondering if he should even expect Peter to ever trust him.

Peter was still in the shower, he did have a few days of grime and blood to wash away, so Neal just dropped off the pants and left again. He hadn't bothered with a shirt with the condition Peter's back was still in there didn't seem to be much point. While Peter was in the shower Neal striped the bed and put clean sheet on. He wasn't sure how well blood came out of Egyptian cotton but he was hoping that they would come clean.

Neal was just starting to become concerned with the amount of time Peter had been in the shower when he heard the water turn off. Peter stepped out into the main living area in the clean pajama pants. He looked weak, but still looked better than he had over the past twenty four hours. Neal smiled at him, trying to help put the awkwardness of the attack behind them.

"Feel better?" Neal asked knowingly.

Peter just nodded, he hadn't been particularly talkative before, but he was practically mute now. There was no questioning that he was still critically ill and it had been a stressful morning.

"You'd probably better sit down before you fall down." Neal suggested.

Neal was already moving closer, suspecting that Peter wasn't going to make it to a chair. Peter made it two more steps before his knees gave way. Neal had feared that the shower would take what little strength he had left, but he had needed it. Neal lunged forward just in time to get his hands under Peter's arms to help him remain on his feet. Reaching back with his leg Neal snagged one of the kitchen table chairs with foot and dragged closer. Peter accepted the offer, turning the chair around so that he could straddle it backwards and rested his forearms on the back of the chair. Leaning forward Peter rested his chin on his folded arms.

"Thank you."

"Rest here for a second and then we can work on getting you back to bed."

Once again Peter's only response was a slight nod as he struggled to keep his eyes open. Neal looked over Peter's shoulder to see how well his back had fared during the shower. Peter had managed to peel off all of the bandaging that Neal had placed the night before, which was fine it needed changing anyway. Although the marks looked raw the skin around them looked less angry. Noticing once again how labored Peter's breathing was Neal reached out to put the back of his hand against Peter's forehead. Peter jerked away to avoid being touched causing him to growl with pain at the sharp motion.

"Sorry, I was just checking to see if you still had a fever."

"The reaction is automatic, I can't help it. Please don't take it personally."

"I don't, and I should know by now to ask permission before touching you anyways." Neal said. "Can I try to get the IV back in your hand?"

Peter unfolded his arms from the back of the chair and offered Neal his hand. Taking the motion as a 'yes' Neal went over to the table and grabbed the spare IV kit and a few packaged alcohol swabs. After a brief moment of problem solving Neal decided it was easiest to just drag the table the few feet it would take to reach Peter. Neal read through the instructions before making the attempt. Much to Neal surprise the needle slipped into the vein without any issues. He tested the access by pushing the antibiotic into Peter's blood.

"There we go. I'm going to have to replace the bandaging on your back, I strongly suggest some of the pain medication first."

"I don't need it."

"Really?" Neal asked doubtfully.

Peter proved his point by closing his eyes and quickly falling asleep for a spit second before he was woken by the fact that he started to fall from the chair. Realizing Peter couldn't stay where he was Neal offered him his hand to help stand. It was taking some getting used to but Neal was learning to let Peter make any move towards physical contact first. Taking Neal's hand Peter relied heavily on his help to get up and over to the bed to lay down. Neal figured he'd pass out instantly, but he forced himself to stay awake as he stared at the bright red mark across Neal's throat.

"Neal?"

"Yes?"

"I do want your forgiveness."

"You have it." Neal assured. "Is it too soon for me to ask for yours in return?"

"You didn't do anything wrong."

"I haven't done much right either."

"You've tried your best, you're a good owner."

"I'm not your owner, Peter, Nick Halden is."

"Nick Halden doesn't exist."

"Exactly."


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter Twenty one

Peter woke to an enticing savory aroma that filled the small studio apartment. Opening his eyes he discovered that it was dark once again. The morning attack on Neal, a shower and the brief conversation had taken every last ounce of strength he'd had left for the day. In some ways he had appreciated Neal's sentiment about handing ownership over to the fictional 'Halden', but at the same time it didn't change any of the facts of what he was or the situation he was in. Peter would still have nowhere to go when Neal tired of him. However, there had been no sense in arguing the point with Neal, he would just have to deal with the uncertain future when it came.

Testing his strength Peter started the arduous task of sitting up. While he had been passed out Neal had changed the dressing across his shoulders and for the first time since he'd received the lashing the cuts were feeling like they were actually beginning to heal. Every other time he'd tried to move a sickening stabbing pain had washed over him, right now it was more of a dull throbbing.

It still took a great deal of effort to go from laying down to sitting up, and the instant he began to move Neal took notice. Putting down whatever he was working on in the kitchen Neal rushed over to help. Even though it made it harder to sit up Peter put his hand out to stop Neal from coming closer. Completely misinterpreting Peter's body language Neal reached out and took Peter's hand to help him up. Before he could protest the help Neal pulled him up to a sitting position and released his hand.

"Thank you." Peter said begrudgingly.

"Of course." Neal smiled. "You're looking better. How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine."

"I don't know why I bother asking, the answer is always the same." Neal chuckled. "Hungry?"

"Not really." Peter lied. Whatever Neal was cooking it did smell good.

"Come and try some anyway. You'll never get stronger if you don't eat."

Peter sighed quietly, knowing Neal had a point. Even just sitting on the edge of the bed talking to Neal was exhausting. A smirk touched Peter's lips at that last thought.

"A smile?" Neal asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Nothing."

"It's not nothing, it's nice to see and a good sign." Neal smiled as well. "Wait...were you thinking about how just talking to me was exhausting?"

"I was." Peter admitted. "How did you know?"

"It's the obvious joke here, and you look like you could drop at any second. However, I think you'll find getting healthier doesn't really make talking to me any less exhausting, particularly if you're trying to argue with me."

Peter shook his head with a quick chuckle. Neal smiled more brightly, encouraged by the lighthearted interaction. Peter took a deep breath to fight a sudden dizziness which managed to aggravate his shoulders. Realizing he still had a long and painful road back to health Peter sighed heavily.

"What's wrong?" Neal asked concerned.

"Nothing."

"You don't expect me to believe that do you?"

"I was so close to death...maybe you should have just let me go."

"I can understand your sentiment." Neal replied seriously. "Believe it or not I've even been there a few times myself. I hope I can prove to you that living with me is not a fate worse than death."

"I didn't mean it like that."

"I know." Neal smiled. "Have something to eat, it might improve your spirits. Do you need any pain medication?"

"No." Peter shook his head. "I would like to be allowed to get one of my shirts though."

"I'll get it for you."

Peter didn't bother to protest, he knew there was no point as Neal left. Neal seemed determined to prove that he could treat Peter as an equal, but Peter could already tell that Neal was rash and tended to think with his heart rather than his head. In the short run it was all well and good for him to play the part of a care taker, however as time wore on Neal would start to see how much work such a relationship was. Like a child with a new pet eventually the novelty would wear off and the reality of the expense and inconvenience of owning an Animula would set in.

Peter guessed that it would only take Neal a few months to realize what a liability it was to keep him around. More than just a financial drain Peter would also become an obstacle to Neal socially. Neal was young and attractive, and as soon as a woman came into his life there wasn't going to be room in the relationship for a third party. Neal simply was not the type to be able to provide him with a long term home.

"Story of my life..." Peter muttered bitterly as he glanced down at the long list etched into his arm.

Neal returned from the other side of the hall with a white button down shirt that he offered to Peter. Accepting the shirt Peter struggled for a moment pulled it on, finding his fingers usually clumsy as he worked the buttons. His back protested under the bandages at the motion for a moment before settling down. Neal went back over to the kitchen and the pot that was simmering on the stove. Using a metal ladle he filled two bowls with a vegetable heavy chicken soup and put them on the kitchen table. After bringing two glasses of water over to the table as well Neal sat down and looked expectantly over at Peter.

"Are you going to join me?" Neal asked.

"I really shouldn't."

"I won't tell anyone if you don't." Neal smiled.

"Neal, I appreciate what you're trying to do..."

"Really? This is you appreciating something?"

"I would rather you treat me like an Animula not like a human."

"Why would you want that?"

"For one thing because I am Animula, and second Because it's difficult to go back to being treated like property afterward and I was just starting to get used to it again before you came along." Peter admitted.

"Again? So you've been treated as human in the past? Would that be Eliz..."

"I don't want to talk about it," Peter said firmly "and I don't want to have to start all over again with my next owner."

"Why do you assume that there is even going to be a 'next' owner?"

"Because no one keeps me long and you have no good use for me to begin with."

"That's not true, I've got some great cons in the works that you'll be perfect for. And don't worry, I'll cut you in on the profits."

"That's the least of my concerns."

"Just come have dinner with me." Neal offered. "I spent half the day cooking, good chicken soup is more art than science."

"If I say 'no' will you make it an order?"

"Would you be happier if I did?"

"Yes."

"Fine." Neal sighed heavily. "Consider it an order."

Peter was satisfied that he had found at least a small way to keep some distance between then without alienating Neal completely. Hearing that Neal expected him to participate in a con of some sort had placed a limit on their time together. Peter couldn't imagine purposefully deceiving a human for financial profit. As soon as Neal realized that he was worthless in that respect he'd give up on this fantasy of them being able to work together.

Getting to his feet Peter had to stand for a moment to allow the dizziness to pass. He'd barely eaten anything over the past few days. As reluctant as he was to join Neal at the dinner table his mouth was watering at the prospect of eating. Stepping over to the table he turned the chair around and sat down. He looked at the odd medley of vegetables mixed in with shredded chicken, it was a fancier meal than he was used to even from when Elizabeth used to cook. Not one to stand on ceremony Neal began eating to encourage Peter to try it as well. Peter tried some of the warm broth and was surprised by the complexity of its flavor.

"Well?" Neal chuckled. "How's my cooking?"

"Very good. Old family recipe?"

"No. Rachel Ray." Neal replied. "My mother and I were always on the move when I was growing up, we mostly ate out or just made simple stuff."

"So where did you learn to cook?"

"I spent a few years in Paris a while back. I had these two Federal Agents on my tail, White Collar types, I had to keep out of New York for a while. I'd be in big trouble if they knew I was back."

"If you can get caught, why did you come back?"

"I came back for a woman. It ended up being a mistake for us both."

Peter didn't ask any more questions and Neal fell into a heavy silence. Peter watched as Neal stared at his soup suddenly not looking hungry. He had instantly lost the lightheartedness that usually surrounded him. Peter was familiar enough with the pain of loss to recognize it in someone else. With the conversation stalled the pair continued to pick at the meal in silence, lost in their own thoughts. Peter's stomach was greedy about the nutrients at first, but it quickly realized it might not be up to the task. It was frustrating to have such limited endurance, but he could feel his grip on his thoughts and his stomach slipping again. Neal looked up and noticed Peter's distress.

"Peter?"

"What was in your hand?" Peter asked suddenly.

"What? When?" Neal asked confused.

"When I first attacked you. I remember it now...I could have sworn you had a collar."

"It was the band off my hat, it was scuffed and I had plans on fixing it. I wasn't thinking when I brought it out. I wasn't trying to frighten you."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize. He who was once bitten by a snake will fear a coiled rope for ten years."

"If I lived a hundred years more I think I'd still fear that particular rope."

"Something needs to be done about the fact that collars are still legal." Neal said seriously. "Animula treatment in general needs to be changed."

"No one cares."

"I do." Neal pointed out. "You said you didn't want to be alone anymore, and you don't have to be. You've opened my eyes to the fact that Animula and humans aren't so different in just a matter of days. I don't believe this 'souless' lie for a second, sounds more like propaganda than anything else now that I've met one of you myself. Together we cou..."

"No. Don't do that." Peter interrupted, as a rising anxiety panicked him. "Don't talk to me like that."

"Like what?"

Peter forced himself up out of the chair and took a few unsteady steps back away from Neal. He could feel the edge of his vision going dark as his blood pressure dropped. Neal was already on his feet and rushing over to make sure Peter didn't fall. Trying to retreat from the human Peter backed up until he bumped into the bed. Losing his balance he just ended up sitting down. Before he could even attempt to stop him Neal helped him lay down on his side. Once down Peter tried to push Neal away but simply lacked the strength.

"Peter..."

"Do not mistake me for some one who could ever be your friend."

"The fifth rule." Neal sighed sadly. "I've basically broken the first four already, no sense in honoring the last one."

"The first four belong to the humans, you do what you want with them. The fifth belongs to the Animula, it is ours to keep and I intend to."

"No exceptions?"

"Exactly."

"So Elizabeth wasn't an exception?" Neal asked gently.

"The only one...and I ruined her life." Peter whispered.

"I don't believe that."

"...be careful, I'll ruin yours too."


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter Twenty Two

 

Sitting up on the couch with his head back Neal jolted awake when someone gently knocked on the front door. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep, he’d just sat down on the couch for a moment to collect his thoughts last night and now it was midmorning. He hadn’t gotten much sleep over the past few days and last time he’d laid down he’d woken to unexpected violence. Looking over at Peter Neal cringed at the yellow and red stain that had soaked through his shirt. He had meant to change the bandaging last night, but he’d passed out before he could get it done.

Feeling guilty for letting the wounds soak through he hoped that Peter wouldn’t blame him for allowing it to become a sticky mess. Neal had felt for a moment last night that he and Peter were actually finding common ground to stand on. He wasn’t really surprised that Peter had pulled away and tried to redraw the line between them, but he still didn’t fully understand why Peter was insisting on being treated as a possession rather than an equal. Neal didn’t have time to think about it right now as the visitor at the door knocked again.

Assuming it was Mozzie Neal got up to answer the door rather than call out that it was unlocked and risk waking Peter. He had called Mozzie to apologize about ordering him away, but his petulant friend hadn’t answered the phone. It was a mixed blessing, he didn’t want to lose Mozzie’s friendship, but he also hadn’t really been in the mood to talk about what had happened. He knew that Mozzie wanted Peter gone, but he also felt that if he just spent some time with Peter that eventually he’d warm up to him.

As he got to the door Neal rubbed at his painful throat, the visible bruise was not going to help Mozzie’s attitude, but there was nothing for it. Opening the door Neal was surprised to find the gray haired vet standing in the hall with his suitcase sitting on the floor behind him. Seeing Neal the vet quickly slipped a small thin leather case into his jacket pocket that looked suspiciously like a case used to hold a set of lock picks, but Neal couldn’t be sure.

Taylor looked surprised to see Neal but he covered it quickly and smiled apologetically. Neal returned the expression, he had meant to let the vet know that Peter was still alive and have him come for a follow up visit, but he’d been distracted by the attack and it had slipped his mind.

“Doctor...”

“I’m sorry for just dropping by like this, Mr. Halden, but I didn’t hear from you and I neglected to get your number. I feared that you might have lost mine.”

“No, I have it, I meant to call you yesterday, but I...it’s complicated. Never mind. I’m glad you’re here.”

“Is...uh...is everything okay?” Taylor asked nervously gesturing to Neal’s throat. “Are you hurt?”

“No. I’m fine.”

“What happened?”

“Peter and I had a little misunderstanding.” Neal admitted.

“Peter did that?”

“It wasn’t his fault.” Neal said quickly. “Please don’t report him, he’s not dangerous.”

“Don’t worry, I’m not reporting anything to anyone.”

Taylor’s response made Neal suspect that Taylor would probably be in just as much trouble for having treated Peter in the first place if he went to any kind of authority. Mozzie had been the one to find Taylor so there was a good chance that the vet wasn’t exactly a law abiding citizen. Neal had been so distraught with Peter’s condition the first time that he had been grateful to have anyone’s help. It hadn’t occurred to him then that the vet might actually be a danger. After all Peter was living with him illegally, and the Market had large rewards for such information.

“I’m not a threat to you or Peter.” Taylor assured knowingly. “I just want to help.”

“Thank you.”

“So...can I come in?”

Neal hadn’t even realized that he was standing in the door way to block Taylor. He stepped to the side and invited the vet in. Bring his suitcase inside Taylor went directly to where Peter was passed out on the bed. It wasn’t until the vet gingerly touched the stain on Peter’s shirt that Neal realized that it must look like he wasn’t caring for Peter very well. Peter’s condition was so delicate that it didn’t take much neglect for it to spiral out of control again.

“I’m so sorry about that, I’ve been doing my best to keep up with it, but I fell asleep on the job last night. I’ve been doing the antibiotics, I’ve never let the bandages get this ba...”

“Being a caretaker isn’t an easy role,” Taylor interrupted “and it doesn’t look like you have a whole lot of help.”

“I’m a bit of a loner.”

Taylor didn’t comment on the remark but he did turn and study Neal for a moment. Turning back to Peter Taylor touched the back of his hand against Peter’s forehead. Even unconscious Peter flinched at the contact. Taylor carded his hand into Peter’s hair in an attempt to wake him. He fluttered his eyes open slightly, but failed to actually join them in the waking world.

“Has his fever broken at all?”

“It comes and goes. I try to keep it down with cold water.”

“That would offer him some comfort, but not fix the underlying cause. The antibiotic isn’t strong enough, I’ll have to add another one.”

“I’m sorry...I should have called sooner.”

Taylor looked back at Neal again. Neal could see that the vet was trying to figure him out, but he wasn’t sure what conculsion the man was coming to. Peter hadn’t been awake the last time the vet was here either, so the only word Taylor had to go by on the situation was Neal’s. Going back to his work Taylor bent down and opened the suitcase and fished through it. Eventually he found what he was looking for and pulled out a small glass medicine bottle that held a clear liquid that he drew out with a syringe. Needle in hand Taylor continued to root through the case full of supplies.

“Damn it. I forgot my alcohol wipes at home.”

“I have a whole box of them that you left with me last time.”

“Can you get me one?”

“Of course.”

Without thinking Neal turned to go to the kitchen table where he had the supplies set up. Taylor took the opening and sunk the syringe into the back of Neal’s shoulder. There hadn’t been any pain associated with the assault, but Neal knew instantly what the vet had done. Neal jerked away, but whatever Taylor had injected him with acted fast and he stumbled as he lost his balance. Taylor caught Neal before he fell and guided him over towards the couch like he was leading a drunk friend. Forcing his victim to lay down on the couch Taylor stood over him as Neal fought to stay awake.

“Wait...” Neal slurred. “Don’t...”

Quickly losing the battle with the drugs Neal closed his eyes, fully expecting to be in police or more likely FBI custody when he woke. He wanted to try to bargain with Taylor, not just for himself, but to keep Peter from being sent back to the Market as well, however his tongue was too heavy in his mouth to work properly. Cursing himself for being so stupid and letting his guard down Neal prayed that Peter didn’t end up paying the cost, there was a chance that Taylor saw this as a ‘rescue’. Once Neal was out Taylor reached down and pressed his fingers against his throat to check his heart.

“I’m sorry, ‘Nick’, but I can’t be too careful.” Taylor apologized even though he knew Neal couldn’t hear him. “I have to talk to Peter alone, he won’t speak freely around his Master no matter how you’ve been treating him.”

Taylor looked over his shoulder to where Peter was still lying asleep struggling against his fever with the infection still slowly leaking through the cloth of his shirt. Taylor had reservation to begin with leaving Peter here, but he hadn’t had a choice. He was still willing to give Neal some benefit of the doubt. Taking care of someone who was as close to death as Peter was wasn’t easy. The fact that Peter was still alive spoke to the idea that his Master had been at least trying to help him, but coldly saving a valuable asset from death wasn’t the same thing as truly caring for him.

Neal had put on a good show last time of truly being concerned for his new and apparently unintentional acquisition, but there was only one way that Taylor could learn his true intentions. He wanted to believe he’d found one of the rare humans that actually saw Animula for who they really were, but he wasn’t going to get his hopes up until he spoke with Peter. He already knew that the papers Neal had were fakes, very good fakes, but they showed that he wasn’t a legitimate owner. The tattoo had to be a forgery as well, albeit and impressive one. Neal could have done that to Peter while he was passed out and then used the damning mark to blackmail the Animula into staying.

An Animula who ‘allowed’ an unregistered mark would be worthless to the Market. Neal could be using that as a threat to keep Peter quiet about the forgery, have an easy way to control him and dodge taxes all in one. He might even just be trying to get Peter healthy enough to sell off his organs himself, they could fetch a sizable sum on the black market. On the other hand Neal could have been telling the truth from the start, and that he just woke up after a night of drinking to find the Animula his responsibility. Peter might have agreed to the tattoo freely, knowing that he could take the chance at a life here, go back to an abusive owner, or be shipped back to the Market. It wasn’t much of a choice, but if he’d at least been allowed to make it there was hope for his ‘owner’. He had the feeling that Neal could be a powerful ally, assuming he wasn’t just another part of the problem. Taylor looked down on the young con man, unsure of what to think.

“At the very least I hope for your sake that you’ve been treating him well. Peter might not be the type to want revenge...but I am.”


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter Twenty Three

A purposeful squeezing pressure around Peter's upper forearm slowly started to bring him to the surface from the darkness of a dreamless sleep. Peter wasn't sure who was trying to wake him, Neal's touch tended to be very light and tentative, which elicited the exact opposite reaction that he was going for. A delicate touch stimulated the nervous system, often alerting it to danger or intimacy. Firmer pressure on the other hand calmed the nerves and provide a feeling of security. A light brushing excited the recipient on some level no matter the intention, it took a hug if you wanted to comfort them.

Whoever had their hand on his arm right now understood that phenomenon. Even though they were being gentle about it Peter didn't really want to be woken. Being conscious just meant dealing with the pain that radiated from his shoulders and the fever that was burning in his blood. However the pressure on his arm was persistent and eventually joined by them taking his hand as well. Growling in pain and irritation Peter opened his eyes and looked up at the older man who was standing over him. Despite the fact that it had been nearly twenty years Peter felt he instantly recognized him. He only hesitated because it didn't make any sense that the man would be here.

"Doctor?"

"Hello, Peter."

Taylor smiled warmly. Confused, but pleased to see this particular face from his past Peter returned the expression. Having a difficult time focusing Peter tried to shrug off the disorientation that came with the recurrent fever and near catatonic periods of sleep. Suddenly connecting the vet's face with the only environment he'd ever seen him in Peter's skin chilled with a wash of adrenaline. Taylor noticed the subtle change as Peter tensed and the golden rings around his iris shrank slightly as his eyes dilated in response to the fight or flight instinct.

"It's okay, Peter, you're still at the apartment." Taylor stepped out of Peter's line of view. "See?"

"Please..." Peter whispered hoarsely. "Don't tell them I'm here."

"I wouldn't dream of it."

"You have to go..." Peter stopped as a wave nauseating dizziness hit him.

"Go? Why?" Taylor asked gently. "Is there danger here?"

"I don't want to get you in trouble."

"I won't get in any more trouble than I'm already in." Taylor assured.

"The Market..."

"Peter, I haven't worked for the Market in well over a decade and I regret every second I spent there."

Although he relaxed considerably Peter remained concerned. Moving deliberately Taylor reached out and carded his hand into Peter's hair with the same strong pressure that he had used to wake him. Peter closed his eyes and enjoyed the moment of contact from one of the few hands he trusted. Despite the fact that most of his past physical interactions weren't positive ones there was still something about simple act of contact that under the right circumstances was remarkably soothing.

"It's good to see you." Peter muttered sleepily.

"Really?" Taylor asked doubtfully. "I was afraid you'd be angry with me."

"You saved my life."

"I fixed your body, I didn't do anything to improve your life."

"You were the only one who believed me when I said I was sick." Peter countered.

"You weren't sick," Taylor corrected "you were bleeding out internally after being butchered for a spare part."

Peter didn't have the strength to argue with Taylor on the semantics at the moment. The way he remembered it he had been about twenty-five yeas old and after weeks of struggling to recover from an injury he didn't understand his Market handlers had decided that he was being lazy and purposefully belligerent about being resold and getting back to work. In truth he barely had the energy to keep awake, let alone focus on a task. They had been threatening him with a collar when the vet had heard the commotion and come to investigate it. Collars were a fairly new technology at the time but not so new that Peter hadn't already had enough experience with it to make him very vocal in his desire to avoid it.

"What the hell is going on in here?" Taylor had snarled at the two men harassing Peter.

"Just dealing with a behavioral issue, Doctor."

"Please," Peter pleaded quietly from his place on his knees "I'm trying to do better..."

"What's wrong?"

"I'm dy..."

"He's fine." The first handler interrupted as he rolled his eyes. "He was already cleared by medical when he came in a week ago, he's just being lazy."

"Cleared by who? Was it Palmer?" Taylor demanded.

"I think so."

"You want to collar someone for being lazy slap one on that quack." Taylor hissed before turning back to his patient who looking closer to collapse by the second. "What's going on?"

"I can't...breathe." Peter panted.

"You were hollering just find a second ago." The second handler sneered.

"Get out." Taylor ordered. "Both of you. Take that goddamn collar with you, torturing Animula is no way to instill loyalty."

"Loyalty ain't what people want, Doc, they just want to feel safe from these soulless freaks. Particularly from ones like this one."

"Yeah, he looks real dangerous." Taylor said sarcastically. "Leave."

The handler didn't really need to be told again, he and his friend were more than happy to make Peter not their problem. Taylor looked back to Peter who was concentrating on staying on his knees and not passing out. Taylor had specialized in Animula because the money was good, but ten years into the job he was starting to fear that the costs weren't worth the pay. When he'd first started out in the Chicago Market most of his patients were docile and never showed much in the way of emotion. Since the invention of the collar two years ago he was slowly starting to see Animula with anxiety disorders and other emotional disturbances.

"We are shooting ourselves in the foot by making you fear us." Taylor sighed to himself.

Peter looked up at Taylor, but he didn't say anything. Taylor was surprised to have the Animula engage him in a brief moment of eye contact, that almost never happened. His patients tended to just stare forward uninterested in their surroundings until given a task, this one was keeping close tabs on everything around him. Assuming the Animula was too weak to stand Taylor knelt down in front of him.

"What's your name?"

"Peter."

"Do you have any pain?"

Peter just nodded.

"Where?"

"My stomach and back."

"Take your shirt off for me."

Taylor noted how Peter hesitated before reaching up with a shaky hand to loosen his tie so that he could get to the buttons down the front. Peter was gasping for each shallow breath by the time he was done with the buttons so Taylor helped him get the shirt off his shoulders and then just pulled his undershirt up. Taylor knit his brow at the heavy bruising that wrapped around Peter's side and back. Even Palmer should have noticed the mark if it had been there a week ago. Taylor had Peter turn slightly so that he could see his back, there was a four inch laceration in his mid back that had been stitched closed that was healing poorly.

"What happened here?"

"I...fell." Peter replied uncertainly.

"You fell? Do you remember that, or were you told that?"

Peter didn't answer. Shifting his weight uncomfortably he reached up to tugged down his undershirt, but stopped himself since he hadn't been given permission to do so. Taylor pulled down Peter's shirt for him to keep him from feeling as exposed. Still not answering Peter avoided looking at the vet again. Taylor put his hand on Peter's shoulder to help focus his attention.

"It's okay, Peter, you can tell me what happened. I just want to help, this is important. Do you remember falling or were you told that you fell?"

"I...I was told." Peter admitted.

"What really happened? How did you end up with that cut in your back?"

"I don't remember any of it. I just woke up in pain about two weeks ago. I've been getting weaker ever since..." Peter had to stop to catch his breath. "Last week I was sold back here, I was only with them for a few months."

"Did you just come from a private owner?"

"Yes."

"How was his health?"

"I don't know, but he never left the house."

"Did he have one of these?" Taylor brought out his phone and brought up a picture of a dialysis machine up from the internet to show Peter.

"Yes."

"Damn it." Taylor spat.

Peter shied away from the sudden anger in the vet's voice. He stayed on his knees as Taylor stood up. Pacing back and forth a few feet Taylor slammed a number into his phone and waited impatiently for someone to answer.

"Get the OR ready, I'm going to need at least four units of blood, five if you can get it, have transport come to room 1215...yes, right now!"

Getting angrier the more he thought about it Taylor continued to pace as he waited for transport to come and help him get Peter down to the OR so that he could stop the slow leak of blood into his abdomen that was no doubt the cause of his decline. Taylor stopped when he noticed that Peter was staring at the floor, but far from a vacant look he had his eyes narrowed in an expression of barely contained rage.

"Peter?"

"I didn't fall, did I?"

"No...they stole something from you."

"How can anyone steal from me? I don't own anything."

"They took one of your kidneys. It's illegal to harvest organs from Animula for use in humans."

"Why should it be illegal to buy a part of me when it's perfectly legal to own me as a whole?"

"The...uh...the law isn't for Animula protection, it's for human protection."

"Of course it is." Peter sighed. "...why would anyone want to protect me?"


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter Twenty four

"You weren't the first Animula I had come across who showed what appeared to be genuine emotion, but you were the first one I'd ever heard verbally question your social status...or rather the lack there of."

Taylor knew that he was just talking to himself. Peter had passed out ten minutes ago and wasn't showing any signs of waking up any time soon. Taylor was taking the opportunity to clean the wounds after having cut away the ruined shirt. Despite the seeping the cuts looked better than a few days ago. So far the evidence pointed towards the fact that up until last night Peter's Master had done a good job caring for the injuries. Taylor still wasn't sure what to think of 'Nick', Peter hadn't instantly asked him for protection against him, but that didn't mean anything.

"You learned a long time ago that it is pointless to ask any human for help. I'm ashamed of how long it took me to understand that you weren't just an anomaly, but rather proof of the potential that lies in all Animula. I learned my lesson eventually, and the harder I looked the more 'cases' like yours I found. All with one major thing in common," Taylor turned Peter's arm over and inspected the codes inked into his flesh "...a list of owners almost as long as their arm."

Peter had traded hands nearly a dozen times since the last time he'd last seen him. If all his other owners were legitimate buyers from the Market it meant that until recently Peter hadn't physically attacked anyone until now. The Market didn't resell the rare violent Animula, it was a 'one strike and you're out' policy when it came to physical violence against a human. They went to great lengths to cover up such incidences to keep the public calm about uncollared Animula. For the most part it worked and collar use was slowly falling out of favor. However the damaged they'd done to the current Animula generation was irreversible.

"What did this one do to finally break you?" Taylor asked pointlessly. "If I find out he's the one who put these marks in your back I swear to you that I will beat him to death myself."

Taylor wished he could just ask Peter point blank how he was being treated, but he worried about not hearing the truth. Peter seemed to generally trust him, but Taylor knew that he still had every reason to associate him with the Market and his willingness to divulge too much information about his current Master would be limited. Over the past fifteen years Taylor had worked with several Animula who had nearly died at their owners hands who firmly denied the abuse despite all the evidence to the contrary in fear of a trap, retaliation or simply being shipped back to the Market.

Even years after being removed from situation they tended to refuse to talk about it with him. It was hard to help them heal when they couldn't even talk about what they'd been through. In his experience there was nothing harder to earn than an Animula's trust and Taylor doubted that one act of kindness twenty years ago had earned him Peter's at anything other than at a purely superficial level.

"You did remember me though, I can't tell you how much that meant to me."

Still talking to himself Taylor finished replacing the bandaging across Peter's shoulders. The secondary antibiotic that he'd added hadn't really had a chance to work yet, but the antipyretic to reduce his fever was much faster acting. With his fever down Peter slept a little more peaceful. Taylor hated to wake him but he couldn't wait for too long for Peter to wake up naturally. He needed some answers about the Master of the house before he recovered from his own drugging.

"Not that he's going anywhere." Taylor smiled.

Digging through his kit of supplies Taylor brought out a small vile that held a mixture of ammonium carbonate and eucalyptus oil. Opening the container carefully he held it close enough to Peter to allow him to breathe in some of the vapor. The compound frequently referred to as smelling salts had the desired effect and Peter almost instantly jerked awake. He looked up at Taylor and took a moment to recall what was happening, once again he checked around to make sure he wasn't back at the Market before he closed his eyes again.

"Peter? Are you awake?"

"Barely."

"Better than nothing. How's your pain?"

"Fine."

Taylor sighed at so quickly hearing a lie. It didn't take a trained eye to see the tension that had snapped across Peter shoulders when he woke, or to notice the quick shallow breathing or even the slight crease the appeared between his eyebrows as he concentrated on trying to do a better job at hiding his distress. Taylor picked up a small syringe that he'd already drawn with a small amount of morphine for when Peter woke. He had left some Dilaudid with Peter's caretaker, but he'd noticed that it was mostly unused.

"What is that?" Peter asked nervously.

"Just something for pain."

"I don't need it."

"Peter, I can see you're in pain."

"I can handle it." Peter insisted.

"Peter..."

"No drugs, please."

Taylor decided against pressing the issue and put the syringe down. The more argumentative he became with Peter the less likely he was to enter a purposeful conversation with him. Taylor just hoped that he wasn't refusing drugs out of a need to remain alert around his Master. Although if remaining alert was his goal he wasn't doing a very good job at it as he started to fall asleep again. Between fighting the infection and the side effects of the antibiotics he was going to need a lot of sleep, but he didn't even seem to be trying to stay awake for very long. Taylor carded his hand back into Peter's hair to try to get his attention. Peter pried one eye open and looked at Taylor expectantly.

"Peter, how long have you been with your current Master?"

"I don't know, three or four."

"Years?" Taylor asked in alarm.

"Days." Peter clarified with a yawn. "Won me in a poker game...it was far more humiliating than being sold outright."

"I bet." Taylor replied sympathetically. "Sorry, poor choice of words, no pun intended."

Closing his eyes Peter chuckled quietly.

"Was he drunk?"

"Very."

"Does he drink a lot?"

"Not that I've noticed...maybe he learned his lesson."

Taylor relaxed slightly, at least part of the story was true. He doubted that Peter had the wherewithal to lie about the details of how he ended up with a new owner at the moment. It didn't mean his Master could automatically be trusted, but at least it meant that he wasn't the one responsible for the damage to Peter's back. Peter was about to fall asleep again when what appeared to be a reaction to the sensation of falling caused him to jolt violently. Clenching his teeth together he growled for a moment against the flare of pain caused by the motion. More awake now he started to become restlessness, unable to get comfortable, but also too weak to get up and pace.

"Peter, are you sure you don't want the morphine?"

"I'm sure, Doctor Warren."

"It's 'Taylor' now, I had to leave name 'Warren' behind."

Peter narrowed his eyes slightly as his jaw tightened.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"You know I don't believe that."

"Seems everyone around me these days has multiple names." Peter said bitterly.

"Meanwhile you don't even have single full one." Taylor noted sadly. "Who else have you met lately with alias?"

Looking like he'd been tricked into saying something he shouldn't Peter dropped eye contact and fell silent. Taylor hated upsetting him when he was in obvious distress, but he needed to make a decision on what to do with his Master. Peter was still in too fragile a condition to make it down the stairs, let alone across the city. It had been risky enough leaving him here the first time, but Taylor hadn't been prepared to deal with the situation at the time and he'd had little hope at the time that Peter was going to survive even if he'd stayed and personally cared for him. Now that he was at least starting to recover it was time to decide if this new human was an ally or an enemy.

"I'm sorry, Peter, that wasn't fair of me." Taylor apologized. "I'm already fairly certain your new owner isn't really named 'Nick Halden'. What is his name?"

Peter just shook his head slightly.

"Loyal already?" Taylor asked with a skeptically raised eyebrow.

"It's not loyalty, it's survival instinct."

"I understand. It's none of your business what he wants to call himself?"

"Something like that."

"You don't have to tell me his name, but I would like to know more about him."

Peter remained silent and even tried to push himself up to move a little further away. Taylor cursed himself for pushing for too much information too soon. Peter was clearly sensing a trap and even if it wasn't being set for him there would be consequences for him either way. From his experience having his Master arrested meant being sent back to the Market himself. Trying to get their interaction back to something positive Taylor reached out to touch him again. He had reacted well to contact so far, but now he was on high alert again and didn't trust Taylor's intentions. Seeing that he wasn't going to get the reaction he wanted Taylor pulled away putting his hands up in a show of peace.

Peter didn't relax, but he was forced to close his eyes for a moment as his racing heart made him dizzy. Taylor took the chance to pick up the needle of morphine and quickly injected it into the port that was located along the IV line to hide the administration from his patient. Peter may not have seen the betrayal, but he felt the effects quickly as the drugs started to steal both his pain and his anxiety.

Morphine effected each individual slightly differently, but Taylor knew from experience that it made Peter more willing to talk. He had given him some after the surgery to repair the damage done from his poorly removed kidney and hand ended up sitting with him for hours while the young Animula told him stories. Peter seemed to remember the previous encounter with the drug and ground his teeth to help keep quiet. Taylor felt guilty for giving him the drug against his will, but he was doing it to try and save him. Peter struggled against the soothing effects of the powerful opiod but eventually gave up and just stared vacantly at nothing.

"Peter, I'm sorry I had to do that."

"What do you want from me?" Peter sighed in defeat.

"I just want to know if you're safe here."

"I'm not safe anywhere."

"I know it must seem that way to you, but I'm here to help. In order to do that I need to know if your Master is a threat."

"To who?"

"You."

"I'm more of a threat to him."

"That mark across his throat...he told me you two had some sort of misunderstanding?"

"I tried to kill him." Peter admitted quietly. "I've never...I just lost control. I...I'm sorry..."

"It's okay, Peter." Taylor assured. "I don't blame you, and it would seem your new Master doesn't blame you either. He didn't retaliate did he?"

"No." Peter tried to shake his head but weld his eyes shut as the action made the room spin. "He had every right to punish me, but he didn't."

"You're sure about that? Punishment isn't always an action, sometimes it's a lack of action...I noticed that very little of the pain reliever that I left has been used. Has he been withholding it from you?"

"I've been refusing it."

"Because you're afraid of what you might say to him or to drop your guard around him?"

"No, because it almost turned me into a murderer."

"No, years of fear and mistreatment caused you to defend yourself with force." Taylor said firmly. "It is nothing short of a miracle that out of all the abusive Masters you've had that this one was the first one that you lashed out at. He must have done *something* to deserve it. He must have done something worse to you than the man who has been slashing these marks in your back. What did he do?"

"He...trusted me...and he almost lost his life because of it. I've wanted to kill Masters in the past..." Peter rambled drunkenly. "Neal just gave me gave me my first real opportunity by trusting that I wouldn't hurt him."

"Are you sure it was trust? Perhaps he just underestimated you?"

Peter managed to keep quiet despite the drugs as he knit his brow together. Suddenly looking fearful he stared at Taylor in horror. At first Taylor thought it was because he realized that he had slipped and used Neal's real name, but he looked far too concerned for it to be about something that simple.

"Peter, what's wrong?"

"Please, don't hurt him..."

"What makes you think I would?"

"You're looking for an excuse to justify it."

"I'm just trying to make sure you're safe with him. I know that it would be deeply ingrained in you not to say anything negative against a current owner...survival instinct, remember?"

"Where is he?" Peter asked suddenly realizing he was missing. "Doctor, where's Neal? What have done with him?"

"Nothing, I just..."

"Neal?!" Peter called out.

"He's fine, Peter, I promise."

"Leave him alone." Peter begged. "Please..."

"You care what happens to him?"

"I don't want to be responsible for ruining another innocent life."

"How 'innocent' can he be? He owns you, Peter."

"No...I mean, yes, but..."

"But what?" Taylor pressed.

Peter shut his eyes and shook his head, unwilling to continue what he felt was a dangerous conversation. Taylor backed off for a moment, giving Peter a chance to calm down. Peter wasn't interested in calming down and started to try to push himself up. Taylor pressed his hand against Peter's lower back to keep him down. Peter fought it at first, but quickly exhausted himself. Laying still he almost instantly passed out. Taylor lightly brushed against his cheek to bring him back to the surface again. Peter didn't open his eyes, but he proved he was at least partially awake by trying to pull away.

"Peter, how has Neal been treating you?"

"Like I'm human..."


	25. Chapter 25

Chapter Twenty-five

Neal was about to wake naturally when a sudden alarming acrid scent caused his heart to slam painfully against his ribs. Sucking for breath the stimulating effects of the smelling salts added heavily to Neal's general panic as he tried to defend himself from the toxic odor only to discover his wrists tied firmly behind his back. Biting down on the silk that was tied between his teeth he yanked at the restraints keeping his ankles together as well. Laying on his back on the floor of the large walk in closet he attempting to sit up when a heavy pressure on his chest quickly pinned him back to the carpet.

"Stay down."

Still in full fight or flight mode and unable to do either Neal automatically tried to sit forward only to be forced back again. Neal looked up at Taylor who was stepping on his chest to keep him still. Barring his teeth aggressively at Taylor Neal snarled a curse at him through the gag.

"Calm down. I just want to talk."

Neal glared up at Taylor spitefully.

"I know, I know, you were perfectly willing to talk to me before I drugged and hogtied you." Taylor admitted. "I apologize for the need for this."

Before Neal could try and retort through the cloth Taylor leaned more of his weight on him as he bent forward. Fighting to breathe under the man's weight bearing down on him Neal was about to try and buck him off when Taylor reached out and undid the knot that was keeping the gag in place. Pulling the tie free that he'd taken to use as a makeshift restraint to keep him quiet Taylor eased back slightly allowing Neal to breath easier.

"Get off of me!" Neal demanded.

"Only if you're going to behave."

"And if I don't?" Neal asked defiantly. "What are you going to do about it?"

Taylor studied Neal for a moment before removing his foot off his captive. Not interested in remaining in the vulnerable position of laying on the floor Neal struggled to back up a few feet before awkwardly sitting up with his back against the drawers that were set in the wall of the large closet. Neal tugged at the bindings once more but it only served to pull the knots tighter. Neal ground his teeth in frustration at himself for being so easily caught.

"Neal..."

"We trusted you!" Neal spat angrily at Taylor. "What happened to you being tired of fixing your patients only to leave them in the hands of monsters? What do you think is going to happen now? They are going to kill him! Lead the authorities here and Peter is going right back to the Market, we both know he will never survive it!"

"I haven't called any authorities."

"If you're not turning me in then what is this all about?"

"I want to like you, Neal, I really do." Taylor answered evasively.

"Our relationship is not off to a great start." Neal replied sourly. "What do you want?"

"It's a harsh world and the one with the most power set the terms of the engagement so I decided to shifted the balance in my favor. Besides, it's good for every Master to experience a moment or two of helplessness, gives them a new perspective."

"I'm not anyone's 'Master'."

"You showed me a piece of paper that says otherwise the last time I was here. Even if your real name isn't 'Nick Halden' it's clear that you use that name and had every intention of passing Peter off as belonging to you."

"I...I didn't know any better. It was a mistake..."

"You carved that mistake into Peter's flesh in permanent ink."

"What other options did I have?" Neal demanded defensively. "Return him to an owner determined to beat him to death? Abandon him at a Market designed to destroy what little sense of soul he has left? Leave him completely unregistered and risk not even having a chance of fooling someone that he is legal? What other options did he have for that matter? Peter and I are in an absolutely un-winable situation!"

"So you do understand what you've gotten yourself into." Taylor nodded approvingly.

"I never asked for any of this!"

"Neither did he."

"That's not my fault, I've been doing the best I can for him. What more do you want from me?"

"I want proof of your commitment."

"All I can give you is my word."

"A word is all I need, but a very specific one. How's your Latin?"

"What?" Neal asked confused.

"You feel that tightness around your neck?"

Neal hadn't noticed, he was so used to wearing a tie that the pressure had gone completely undetected until Taylor had pointed it out. He swallowed hard to confirm that there was something wrapped around his throat. Realizing what it probably was Neal's blood turned to ice.

"You collared me?" Neal asked in disbelief.

"I did." Taylor nodded. "You can't expect to know where Peter is coming from if you haven't seen where he's been."

"This is your test? You're going to zap me with a collar?"

"It is much more than a 'zap', but no, I'm not going to do it. You are."

"Are you out of your mind?" Neal asked seriously.

"The passcode can be set to anything, but there is a universal code that works on all of them." Taylor explained, ignoring Neal's question. "The universal code is Latin for 'obey', do you know it?"

"Yes, but..." Neal tugged at his wrists again. "Is this something you've tried yourself?"

"Yes, I have. Single most painful experience of my life. It was years ago, but I will *never* forget it. They should never have been invented let alone legalized. Collars are torture, plain and simple."

"And you're okay with torturing me?" Neal asked desperately.

"I don't like it, but it's a surefire way to know your loyalties." Taylor explained. "I can guarantee you no amount of monetary gain is worth suffering a lash from a collar. So if your plans for Peter are strictly finical I highly suggest you give in right now. You will have nightmares for months if you do this."

"What exactly are my options here?"

"Set off the collar, I'll let you go, and Peter can stay. Or I can drug you again, cut you free, and I'll take Peter so you won't have to worry about being responsible for him ever again. You can go back to whatever your old life was."

"He will never survive the move," Neal protested "he can barely make it across the room and back."

"You let me worry about that."

"What does Peter want?" Neal stalled. "Shouldn't he have a say in all of this?"

"It's 'any port in a storm' for him right now, provided you prove that you can be trusted. If he wants to leave under his own power later we will cross that bridge when we come to it. But I'm not leaving him here if I can't rely on you."

"Please, don't do this, you'll kill him if you try to move him now."

"So stop me."

Neal closed his eyes briefly in frustration. He didn't have any doubt about the power of the collar, his heart was pounding just thinking about it. He'd witnessed first hand the mere threat of it drive Peter straight to madness. However, as much as he feared the pain he knew it would only be temporary. Letting Taylor try to take Peter to another part of the city now could very well be the death of him. Although he'd only known Peter for a few days he couldn't take that risk, he'd never forgive himself even if he never learned what happened to him. Having made his decision Neal weld his eyes shut and took a deep breath.

"Pareo..."

Neal braced himself for whatever was going to happen next. It took him a moment to realize that nothing happened. Figuring he just gotten the passcode wrong he opened his eyes he and looked up at Taylor who was smiling at him. Neal jerked back when Taylor stepped up and crouched down in front of him. With his heart still racing Neal tried to lean back when Taylor reached out, but he was already backed up against the dresser that was sunk into the wall. Taylor hooked his finger into the band around Neal's throat and pulled. The slip knot he'd tied easily came free and revealed it to just be another one of Neal's highjacked ties.

"I wouldn't use a collar even on my worst enemy," Taylor explained "let alone a potential friend."

"You and I are *not* friends." Neal snarled.

"That's fine. I only really care about what you'll do for Peter, it doesn't matter how you feel about me. He needs you more than I do."

"You are insane. I was never the threat here."

"Never? You didn't use him at all before you noticed he was sick? It never once occurred to you that he could raise your social status just by being yours? Help you open doors that would normally be closed to you?"

Neal fell silent remembering not only using Peter to get invited into some important offices but also having him basically double as a hat rack while he waited. He'd felt terrible when they had returned home and Peter had automatically stepped forward to take his hat feeling like the menial was something he had to do for him even in private.

"I thought so." Taylor said noting Neal's silence. "Not that I'm anywhere near innocent myself."

"So what give you the right to judge me?"

"The same thing that gives humans the 'right' to own Animula: having the upper hand."

"That is no excuse."

"I know, but it doesn't change the fact that the powerful make the rules."

"I passed your test, now let me go."

"You're right, for what it's worth: I'm sorry for all of this. I only did it to protect Peter."

"He's safe with me." Neal assured.

"I can see that." Taylor smiled as he reached out to untie Neal's ankles. "I came here to save him, clearly I'm too late."

"Too late?"

"He's already been rescued."


	26. Chapter 26

Chapter Twenty-six

"Pareo..."

Years of conditioning caused Peter to instantly reach up and claw at his throat in anticipation of pain even though he knew he wasn't wearing a collar. Battling hard against the drugs Taylor had forced on him Peter had been trying to follow the conversation between Neal and Taylor that was happening in the nearby room. Unable to pick out many words he had really only been able to understand the general argumentative angry tone to Neal's voice, and the calm demanding response of Taylor. However the Latin command was one word that Peter could hear a hundred yards away through a raging storm even if it was only whispered. Peter wasn't surprised when Neal didn't scream, he'd almost never been able to find his own voice under the debilitating shock.

Fearful that the vet was enacting some sort of deranged revenge in his name on Neal Peter forced himself to sit up. The morphine had stolen his pain, but at the same time it was like having lead poured into his veins, making every move labor intensive and slow. Peter didn't fully understand Taylor's motives, but the conversation between them had quickly turned into what felt like an interrogation of Neal's behavior. Taylor had saved his life once, but that had been twenty years ago and when all was said and done he had still been part of the Market and could easily have been lying about having left it.

Peter hadn't made his mind up about Neal one way or the other, but he knew enough to know he didn't deserve being collared. He would gladly risk that Neal's motives weren't completely altruistic over any chance of being sent back to the Market. Even living with Cheng's abuse had been better than the maddening solitary that awaited any Animula that failed to keep their Master happy and was returned.

Even though most interacted very little with those around them Peter had noticed a spark of fear in even the most reserved Animula anytime they had been told that they were being sent back. The need for others was buried deep in a majority of his brothers, but it was there. Even after the advent of the collar the Market used the fact that Animula would always chose blind obedience to isolation as its main weapon.

Hearing Neal snarling at Taylor again bought Peter's scattered thoughts back to the task at hand as he drove himself to his feet. Staggering forward due to the intense dizziness he made his way towards the argument with no real plan of what to do once he got there. Before he got very far the IV tugged at him to remind him that he was still tied to it. Grabbing the line he yanked it out. Making it to the kitchen Peter stumbled and pitched forward. He caught himself by grabbing a hold of the kitchen table and eased himself down on his knees to avoid outright collapsing. Kneeling down with his hands up on the table the exposed position sparked a recent memory that momentarily assaulted his senses.

On his knees Peter gripped the edge of Cheng's large mahogany desk with enough force to blanch his knuckles white. Grinding his teeth together Peter braced himself for another breathtaking strike from the expertly wielded cane. The sound the thin weapon made as it cut through the air gave Peter half a second's worth of warning. Having to force himself to hold still while the chilling sound prickled his skin was hardest part of the archaic punishment. Every instinct was screaming at him to move, however Cheng took any attempt to throw off his aim or soften the blow as a personal insult. Flinching only when the searing flash of nauseating pain caused bile to jump to the back of his throat Peter nearly passed out as the edges of his vision turned to black.

Beyond staying in place Peter had also learned to do his best to remain as silent as possible during these violent encounters. His sadistic Master respected this particular form of bravery in the face of pain and rewarded it with a lighter sentence than he had first announced. However, tonight Cheng had been drinking and had either lost count or was just enjoying himself more than usual. Without a lot of options that wouldn't just instantly get him killed Peter tried to focus on something else while he waited for Cheng to tire.

Peter glanced over at the young woman in the corner with tears streaking down from her dark almond shaped eyes. Cheng had to take his aggression out on someone. If he didn't cooperate it just made things worse, not only for himself but for the others as well. It hadn't taken Peter long to realize that Cheng owned the women every bit as much as he owned him. He had tried in the beginning to encourage them to seek help through the law, but none of them spoke English and they were terrified of being caught interacting with him in anyway.

Having been momentarily distracted by his audience Peter cried out sharply as Cheng landed a powerful strike that actually forced him forward despite using the desk for support. Cheng wasn't always in the mood to draw blood, but when he was he was vicious about it. Still this evening he was far more violent than ever before. Feeling hot blood that had been slowly soaking his shirt suddenly start rolling down his back Peter feared he may have just been mortally wounded. Cheng had carved marks into his skin before, but never this many or so deep. Peter was just about break down and beg Cheng to stop when his tormentor casually tossed the blood spattered cane down on the marble floor next to him.

"Clean this mess up." Cheng ordered loftily.

"...yes, Master."

Forcibly shaking off the memory Peter snarled quietly at himself for allowing Cheng to abuse him so heavily for so long. At the time he had just accepted it as punishment for the crime of destroying Elizabeth's life. However there was something about the pain killing drugs that also chipped away at his thinking that he deserved any of the treatment he'd been subjected to for a life time. He hadn't ruined Elizabeth's life, it had been Renner that had forced her hand into buying him by threatening to separate them. There had been no reason other than spite for Renner to want to sell him, he had done nothing but work to the bone for the company to ensure that they would want to keep him, as he had done for every Master that had eventually given him up for one reason or another. His drug induced attack on Neal had had similar thoughts of being worth at least a chance before being collared and treated as dangerous. Like someone losing their inhibitions under the influence of alcohol Peter found that for whatever reason the opioids repressed a good deal of his brainwashing that he was some how inferior.

When Taylor suddenly came out into the kitchen Peter froze. The vet looked to be in a bit of a hurry and he didn't notice Peter kneeling on the floor as he searched through the drawers. After hearing what he thought was Neal being forced into using the universal passcode Peter deemed Taylor a direct threat. Even if Taylor's only interest was in hurting Neal Peter wasn't going let him torture anyone on his behalf, let alone a Master who was at least trying to be decent to him. Peter used the table to help him get to his feet quietly in hopes of taking Taylor by surprise. Peter was about to tackle Taylor but hesitated when the vet turned around to reveal that he had a large knife in his hands.

"Peter?" Taylor asked surprised.

Recovering slowly from seeing the weapon Peter tried to calculate how best to get it away from Taylor. Unable to come up with a proper plan he just bunched up his muscles as he prepared to just try to rush him and take it by force.

"Oh, wait, no..." Taylor looked down at the knife "this isn't what it looks like, Peter."

"Taylor?" Neal asked nervously from the next room. "What's going on out there?"

"Please tell Peter that I'm not trying to kill yo..."

Taylor had taken his eyes off Peter for a second when he'd gone to shout back to Neal and Peter had used the opportunity to go for the knife. Unlike Neal who had been sleeping when Peter had attacked Taylor had plenty of warning. Dropping the knife Taylor kicked it away from both his and Peter's reach before getting out of Peter's path. Just like when he had rushed Neal Peter ended up hitting the counter when Taylor stepped to the side.

"Taylor!" Neal called out having heard the commotion. "Peter?!"

"Everything is okay." Taylor tried to assure them both.

"Stay away from Neal," Peter snarled as he turned to face Taylor "stay away from me!"

"Calm down, Peter, if your heart rate gets too high you are going to pass out." Taylor warned. "You really weren't kidding about drugs making you aggressive."

"Drugs aren't making me aggressive, you are." Peter spat.

"Fair enough," Taylor put his hands up in a sign of peace "I don't want anyone to get hurt. I was getting the knife to help Neal, I tied him up and I can't get him free again."

"Peter, he's telling the truth, don't hurt him." Neal added blindly to the conversation.

Peter stared at Taylor for a moment unsure of what to think about the situation. Feeling that he was getting close to dropping Peter backed away from Taylor to ensure Neal was uninjured. Peter hurried across the short distance over to the archway to the walk in closet. Neal was laying on his side with his knees pulled up to his chest as he tried uselessly to bring his bound wrists behind his legs so he could get them out from behind his back. He'd gotten about half way there but now appeared stuck with his wrist trapped behind his knees. Neal stopped struggling and looked up at Peter in concern as he swayed in the door way.

"Neal..."

"I'm okay, don't hurt yourself." Neal fought to get his hand back up behind his back again so he could sit up. Looking up again he noticed the glassy look in Peter's eyes. "Are you alright?"

Trying to understand the scene with drugs and exhaustion rapidly taking their toll Peter didn't reply. Neal didn't appear to be collar or in any real distress, but he was being obviously held against his will. He went to step forward to try and help him but his taxed body finally started to fail him and he had to hold on to the door frame. Taylor came closer, but still stayed a few feet back.

"Peter," Taylor said gently "I'll help Neal, you need to go back to bed."

Unable to trust his own judgment at the moment Peter looked to Neal for direction.

"It's okay, Peter." Neal nodded. "Go lay down, we'll sort this out later."

Too tired to argue Peter allowed Taylor to guide him back towards bed. Taylor tried to help him lay down, but Peter used what was left of his strength to shove him away. He didn't want to, but he was forced to lay down as he became increasingly light headed. With his mind still spinning from the morphine and excursion Peter tried to make sense of what had just happened. Taylor stayed at his side for a moment. Unwilling to close his eyes Peter glared up at Taylor.

"What are you doing here?" Peter demanded. "What do you want from us?"

"I'm sorry about all this, Peter. I'm just trying to help."

"We were doing just fine without your 'help'."

"I can see that now. In fact I worry that I did more harm than good by intruding, but I had to be sure you were safe. I'm going to leave you two to work things out on your own for a while."

"What's to work out? He's my Master, end of story."

"Perhaps, or maybe it's the beginning of a whole new one."


	27. Chapter 27

Chapter twenty-seven

"If you are going to protect Peter you need to be more careful with who you trust, Neal." Taylor warned.

"Thanks for the lesson." Neal replied dryly. "Now cut me free."

Standing in the doorway with a large kitchen knife in his hand Taylor looked down on Neal who was still on the floor. Neal had heard Taylor and Peter talking briefly, but with their hushed tone he'd only been able to pick out a few words that didn't have much meaning out of context. Peter had sounded bitter, and Neal couldn't blame for that. Taylor had admitted to Neal about the morphine and let him know that he had left some oral pain medication on the table that Peter might be more willing to take since it wasn't as strong and wouldn't steal his inhibitions the way the IV drugs did.

As irritated as he was with Taylor for 'testing' him Neal was far more angry with the vet for drugging Peter against his will. For someone who claimed to only want to help Neal feared he'd done more harm than good. The last thing Peter needed right now was to be forced into anything by anyone. With his mind being the only thing that Peter could even pretend to own Neal could understand him not wanting it taken or even just clouded by drugs despite the benefits.

Neal knew he should be using this opportunity to learn more about Animula from Taylor, but at the moment he just wanted the treacherous vet out of his home. Taylor took a step closer to cut his captive free, but thought twice about it when Neal tensed slightly. Neal hadn't meant to flinch, but he couldn't hide the fact that his instincts didn't like being approached by a relative stranger with a knife no matter what his intentions were. Neal forced himself to relax to encourage Taylor to come closer realizing that his fear could easily have been misinterpreted as preparing himself to attack. Taylor took a step back through the door way into the living room and put the knife on the floor at his feet.

"What are you doing?" Neal asked warily.

"I'm just going to leave this here."

"You have *got* to be kidding me."

"You seem resourceful, I'm sure you'll get yourself free." Taylor chuckled. "If not Peter will be awake in a few hours."

"What? No, let me go right now. I passed your deranged test..."

"And I fully trust you not to hurt Peter, but you still look fairly pissed at me."

"Imagine that." Neal said sourly. "You know this isn't helping my attitude towards you."

"Duly noted." Taylor nodded. He looked over to where Peter was sleeping fitfully in a haze of morphine before turning back to Neal with a warm smile. "I'm glad he found you, Neal. I don't think you understand how rare it is to find a human that is even willing to accept the idea that Animula have souls worth saving."

"If you treat everyone who might be on your side the way you're treating me it's no small wonder that you haven't had better luck recruiting people to your cause."

"I have friends on my side, others who want to see Animula free, but I've never had to test anyone the way I did you."

"What makes me so special?"

"None of the others have ever been Masters." Taylor replied simply. "It's easy to trust in sheep, it's harder to let wolf into your fold."

"I'm the wolf?" Neal asked insulted. "Where did you get your training? I can't imagine an Animula vet not being at least sanctioned by the Market."

"I told you I wasn't innocent."

"I'm starting to think you're insane."

"I left behind friends, family, and a six figure a year career to fight a cause that probably can't be won. I'm definitely crazy."

"Taylor..."

"I won't drug or tie you up next time we met, I swear. If you or Peter need anything, you have my number." Taylor gave Neal a shallow bow before turning and leaving.

"Taylor..." Neal called angrily. "Taylor get back here!"

Neal ground his teeth and growled in frustration as he heard the front door open and close. He yanked uselessly at the strong silk around his wrists for a moment before relaxing for a moment to regroup his thoughts. Having fought against the knots had drawn then tighter to the point where he was starting to lose feeling in his hands, but it had also given him a little more play in the space between his wrists. Trying to get his hands out from behind his back again he pulled his knees up to his chest once more.

It took a few minutes of concentrated effort but eventually he slipped through and ended up with his hands in a more workable position in the front. Rolling onto his side he was able to stretched out and reach the knife, Once he had the blade it was just a matter of cutting through one of his favorite ties to free his ankles. It was a little more awkward to cut his own wrists free, but he managed.

Getting to his feet he rushed out into the living room to check on Peter. Locked in an unnatural sleep he was breathing easily. Taylor had changed the dressing across his shoulders as well as placed a new IV line into the back of Peter's hand. Neal touched the back of his hand against Peter's forehead and was relieved to find his fever had broken. Neal pulled away when Peter slowly opened his eyes. He looked up at Neal with a mixture of confusion and concern.

"You're safe." Neal assured. "Taylor and I worked out most of our differences."

Peter seemed satisfied with the statement and closed his eyes again. Although clearly still weak he looked far healthier than he had just twelve hours ago. He wasn't struggling for breath or looking the same pale color as the sheets he was laying on. With the additional antibiotic Taylor had left behind Neal had hope that Peter would truly turn the corner health wise soon. Once they got that far they could worry about what they would do next.

Exhausted himself from the stressful encounter with Taylor Neal wandered back over to the couch and sat down. It was just past noon and Neal was just starting to think about hauling himself up to get something to eat when his cell phone started vibrating on the coffee table where he'd left it. Picking up the phone Neal felt a flash of guilt when the number came up as 'blocked' which usually meant it was Mozzie. He had meant to try calling his friend again, but had gotten distracted.

"Mozzie." Neal greeted. "I wa..."

"How are you and Golden Eyes getting along?" Mozzie asked darkly.

"Just fine."

"Are you going to tell me about that cozy little scene I walked in on?"

"I'd rather not get into that right now." Neal said wearily.

"Fine, it's not like I'm your best friend or anything like that."

Neal sighed heavily at Mozzie's hurt tone. However he suddenly realized that jealousy might actually play a large role in Mozzie's instant dislike in Peter. Ever since Kate had been killed Mozzie had grown very used to being the only person in Neal's life. Much like Neal himself the list of people Mozzie actually labeled as a true friend boiled down to just one person.

"Mozzie, you know that Peter doesn't change anything between you and I, right?"

"It will, when you get caught harboring an unregistered Animula."

"I'm in no greater danger of getting caught for this than any of the other multitudes of crimes I've committed."

"That's just the FBI that's after you for that stuff. Now you're messing with the Market and they handle their problems the way the mafia does. When all is said and done the Market is more corrupt and powerful than the government."

"That I'm starting to believe that."

"You are in over your head with this one Neal."

"Mozzie, you've always been cautious, but you're becoming down right cowardly. You have such respect for life, why can't you respect Peter's?"

"It's not that I don't..." Mozzie became flustered for a moment. "Neal, I just value your safety over his, is that such a bad thing?"

"Yeah, it kind of is." Neal chastised. "I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself in this world, Peter is basically defenseless."

"...you have a point." Mozzie conceded after a pause. "I still don't like or trust him."

"Are you at least willing to give him a chance?"

"I'll think about it." Mozzie replied in a tone that suggested he was already slowly coming around.

"Thank you," Neal smiled "and for the record I do appreciate your concern for me, misplaced as it is."

"I just hate seeing you get into a fight you can't win."

"I'm not trying to change the world, Moz, I'm just trying to help one man."

"Neal, that's how changing the world starts."


	28. Chapter 28

Chapter Twenty-eight

"Almost done."

Laying down with his face turned away Peter acknowledged Neal with a slight nod as Neal cleaned the slowly healing cuts across his shoulders. He was getting better every day, but one of the disadvantages to that was that he no longer slept through having the bandages replaced as he once did. Neal could see that it took effort for him to remain quiet during the treatment, but he'd given up on letting him know that he didn't mind any noises he wanted to make if it helped. Neal had always found that being vocal about pain somehow helped even when there wasn't anyone else around to hear it. As he worked on the marks Neal couldn't help but marvel at the body's ability to repair itself. The cuts were still open but the margins were starting to seek one another out and the area no longer actively bled even through there was still a clear yellow seepage that needed cleaning away.

It had only been a three days since Taylor had added another antibiotic to Peter's regiment, but the difference today was night and day. He had mostly slept through the first two days, really only able to stay awake long enough to eat a small meal when he wasn't being kept awake by painful medical attention. Today he'd been awake and alert for most of the morning, although he'd barely spoken.

Neal was pleased that Peter's overall physical health was starting to finally improve, but he was worried about his increasingly introverted behavior. The night before Taylor had come back he had gotten close to having a proper conversation with Peter, it had ended with him pulling away and fearful of being treated too 'human', but it had been a start. Now he tended to reply to any question non verbally if possible or with just a word or two. He had even caught himself halfway through calling Neal 'Master' several times before correcting himself. He also kept his eyes down cast or turned away the way he had when he'd first arrived.

Neal hadn't pressure Peter with too many questions over the past few days, trying to focus on just getting him healthy and hoping that trust and self confidence would develop from there. Considering how Peter had come to his defense against Taylor Neal was confident that given some time Peter would start talking to him again. Neal wasn't sure how much of the events Peter even remembered, but he took it as a positive sign that even in a drugged state Peter hadn't turned on him. Taylor had been looking for any excuse to justify painting Neal as a villain and Peter could have easily fanned that flame.

"Okay, all done. Your back looks so much better." Neal noted as he finished the dressing. "I hope it feels better."

"Yes," Peter replied quietly "thank you."

"You're welcome. Can I get you anything?"

Neal wasn't surprised when Peter shook his head 'no'. He never took Neal up on the offer to have anything fetched for him, but he still felt the need to ask. Deciding that Peter really should drink something even if he wasn't actively complaining of being thirsty Neal retreated into the kitchen. Pouring one of the bottled waters into a glass with ice Neal brought it back over to Peter. He wait a moment and eventually Peter turned his head to glance up at him.

Spotting the glass of water Peter guessed what Neal wanted and started to try and sit up. Several days in bed had helped him heal his cuts, but it had severely negative impact on his general strength. He moved his feet off the edge of the bed, but he only got his body about half way up before stalling. Neal stood patiently and allowed Peter to try several tactics on his own for getting the rest of the way up before offering any assistance.

"May I help?"

This time Neal had chosen his words more carefully having finally learned that every time he'd ever asked 'do you need help?' it was Peter's automatic reaction to say no. Neal held his hand out for Peter to take but didn't grab him and haul him up the way he had the last time. Neal just offered him a brace to pull against. Peter tried pushing against the bed one last time before giving in and reaching out to take Neal's hand. Successful in pulling himself up Peter sat up and took a moment to adjust to the new demands on his blood pressure. Once he seemed settled Neal handed over the water. Peter sipped at the water without any real interest in it.

"We need to start getting you out of bed more often." Neal noted to break the silence. "Sound like a plan?"

Still slowly working on the water Peter nodded vacantly. Neal sighed, becoming more concerned with Peter's lack of engagement. Before Taylor Peter had always tried to remain quiet and unopinionated, but it hadn't ever taken much effort for Neal to get him talking. Even when Peter did succeed at being quiet his expression had always given him away even if it was only a brief narrowing of his eyes or frustrated shake of his head. Now he was becoming more like the traditional stereotype of an Animula, generally uninterested in his situation or fate. It was painful to watch him regress.

"Peter..." Neal hesitated "we need to talk about Taylor."

"If he wanted to turn you in he would have by now."

"That's not my concern." Neal pulled the nearby chair closer and sat down so Peter wouldn't have to look up at him, not that he'd bothered to do so. "I'm talking about the fact that ever since Taylor left you've turned in on yourself."

Neal paused, hoping that Peter would say something. Having not been asked a direct question Peter remained silent, actively avoiding eye contact.

"He took the fight right out of you." Neal continued. "How is it that in an hour Taylor did what two years of being beaten by Cheng...or rather what an entire life time of slavery couldn't do?"

Staring down at the glass in his hands Peter clearly didn't want to answer the question. He got that glazed look to his golden eyes that signified his desire to escape the situation, even if his only real option for retreat was inward. Neal waited again to see if he would answer, but all that happened was Peter became more uncomfortable. Holding the glass in one hand he reached over his shoulder he tried to scratch at the bandaged wounds but decided against it and went back to turning the water glass in circles in his hands watching the ice.

"I'm sorry," Neal gave in and apologized "you don't have to answer that. Whatever happened with Taylor is between you and him. I just want you to know that I miss the Animula that challenged me every step of the way."

"You mean the one that wanted to kill you?" Peter asked showing a small spark of his previous defiance.

"That's him." Neal smiled encouragingly. "The same one who came to my defense when I was hogtied on my floor."

"I don't...I don't remember that."

"You were pretty heavily drugged."

Peter's mood instantly darkened once more. Neal swore at himself for bringing the incident up. It was clear that Peter had taken away the lesson that even the most well intentioned humans could only be trusted up to the point where they wanted something from him. Taylor could have just as easily asked for the information he had been looking for, there was no excuse for him to just take it.

"Peter, I know that Taylor is just one more in a long line of people who have blatantly abused you and your trust, but please don't judge me on his or anyone else's actions. I want you to be happy and I want us to be able to work together, but that's going to take trust on both sides."

Peter brought his eyes up and stared at Neal, which Neal took a good sign, it was the first real eye contact Peter had made with him since Taylor left. Putting down the melting glass of ice water on the night stand Peter looked around the small apartment. The way he lingered on certain sights such as the kitchen table that was still covered in medical supplies, and the area on the floor where he had pinned Neal and nearly killed him gave Neal the impression that he was going over both his own and Neal's actions over the past week that they'd been together. So far they hadn't done the best job of working well with one another or even communicating very effectively, but at the same time they hadn't killed one another either and both had ever opportunity to do so. Eventually Peter brought his attention back to his unlikely Master.

"I want to trust you, Neal, I do...but how can I trust someone who lies for a living?"

"I don't have a good answer for that."

"I can't be the first person who has asked."

"You're not." Neal admitted. "Everyone I've ever tried to have a serious relationship with has eventually asked me that question or some very close variation on it."

"What do they do when you don't have a 'good answer'?"

"They leave me."


	29. Chapter 29

Chapter Twenty-nine

Locked in a nightmare Peter fought to make sense of his surroundings using the disjointed logic that came in dreams. Laying on his back under an impossibly bright light that made it difficult to keep his eyes open for very long he only caught glimpses of a near by steel table that was dripping in blood. Panicked Peter tried to escaped only to find himself unable to move, it wasn't that he was being held down, it was just that his muscles didn't seem to take any of his commands.

The blinding light was interrupted by someone standing over him and casting a shadow. Able to more freely look around without the sourceless light burning him Peter stared in horror at the bloody table. Sitting in metal dishes in congealing pools of blood were a variety of organs that Peter instinctively knew belonged to him. Not questioning why the theft hadn't released him to death Peter just struggled harder to move. He froze again when the figure that had blocked the light moved again.

"Stay away from me!" Peter snarled. "Don't touch me!"

With his eyes adjusting to the light Peter was finally able to recognize Taylor. He relaxed slightly until the vet reached out and carded a blood soaked hand into Peter's hair. Far from his usual comforting touch Taylor gripped down on his hair painfully and forced his head back while pressing down on Peter's chest with his free hand. Peter cried out as his imagination tormented him with the idea that Taylor was literally tearing his heart out. There wasn't any real pain, just the concept of it as Taylor tore mercilessly at him.

Prize in hand Taylor released Peter to take a closer look at it. The heart in his grasp wasn't beating which gave Peter the impression that he had survived its removal because it had never worked properly to begin with. Taylor shook the motionless organ in his hand a few times like it was a malfunctioning toy before holding it up to his ear. He paused for second as he listened for a heartbeat. Peter just stared at him terror as Taylor pulled the heart away from his ear and look at with mild disappointment.

"Must be broken." Taylor shrugged. "Oh well, it wasn't worth much anyway."

Taylor casually tossed the gory heart into a small trash can on the floor. Not understanding how he could still be panting for breath Peter weld his eyes shut, fearful of whatever was next to come. When he opened them again Neal was standing next to Taylor with a vacant look in his blue eyes. Taylor reached into his pocket and pulled out a handful of money that became covered in the blood that was on his hands. Undisturbed by the blood Neal took the money and leafed through the stained bills before tucking them into his inner breast pocket and turning away.

"N...Neal?"

"I'm sorry, Peter," Neal replied sadly "but how else did you think this was going to end?"

Peter woke with a painful jerk with his heart racing in its proper place in his chest. Disturbed by the vidid dream it took a moment to separate it from reality. He was relieved to find himself still in Neal's apartment. Any where was better than the Market, but he was starting to genuinely appreciate being here. Even if it didn't last it was nice to have the chance to rest and not be constantly on his guard for the needs of a demanding Master. Feeling as though he'd gotten more than enough sleep for the moment Peter planted his palms into the bed and pushed himself up. Unlike before Peter managed to sit up on his own this time and he wasn't struck with the sickening nausea that usually accompanied the change in position.

Getting to his feet with far less difficulty than usual Peter walked over to the kitchen table where Neal was engaged in a game of chess with no one. After careful consideration Neal moved one of the black knights before spinning the board around so that he was playing the white side. Neal looked up and smiled at Peter. When Peter remained standing Neal gestured at the seat across the table from himself to invite Peter to sit down. Peter felt he'd be more comfortable standing, but not in a mood to argue he sat down, leaning forward to avoid the back of the chair. Peter looked over the half completed game that Neal was playing. He knew the basics of the game and the names of the pieces, but he didn't know enough about chess to know which side of Neal's personality was wining at the moment.

"Do you play?" Neal asked.

"No."

"Would you like to learn?"

"I...uh...I don't really play games." Peter replied hesitantly.

"Chess isn't a game, it's a test of wit and strategy. A war of minds."

"You want me to spare with you?"

"You've got a long way to go before you're truly back on your feet, learning chess will give you something to do. It would also be nice to have someone other than myself or Mozzie to play for a change, Mozzie cheats and I already know all of my own moves."

"If you insist." Peter sighed.

"I don't insist, just a suggestion." Neal smiled. "I've got some books on chess you can read for a start. It has a heavy base in math, you're good with numbers."

"I'm familiar with them."

Neal chuckled. Peter had to admit that it was nice to be around someone who laughed easily. Elizabeth had always been quick to smile and laugh. Every time she had made any sound of mirth it had never failed to instantly lighten his own mood. Neal didn't have quite the same effect on him, but it still helped to put Peter at ease around him. Peter had noticed that there was something about Neal's general presence that encouraged him to let his guard down. He had already told the human far more than he'd told anyone other than Elizabeth. Peter suspected that Neal had that same talent when it came to dealing with others of his own kind as well. A non threatening aura would be a valuable asset in any good con. He made you want to believe him, even though you knew you shouldn't.

Neal looked back down at the board and studied it for a moment. Watching Neal trying to outsmart himself was an interesting display. Neal reached out and lightly put his hand on the bishop while he contemplated using it before suddenly deciding on moving the rook instead. Looking genuinely pleased with himself for the move he spun the board around again and then rolled his eyes in disgust.

"Amateur," Neal mocked himself "I can get out of that trap in three moves and be at checkmate in five."

Peter wasn't really sure how to respond so he just kept quiet.

"Don't worry," Neal smiled again "I don't usually talk to myself when I play like this."

"I don't understand, if you already know the outcome of the game why do you bother playing?"

"Just something to do." Neal shrugged. "We all know the inevitable outcome of life and yet we play that game."

Peter fell silent once more. He had been wondering with increasing frequency lately about why he was fighting so hard to keep alive, keep playing the game. The easy answer was that death was an end and that something, even something unpleasant, was better than nothing. He also still desperately wanted to ensure that Elizabeth created a new life for herself, even though not being able to be a part of it was a painful thought. Before he could think too much about it Neal cleared away the unfinished chess game and got to his feet causing Peter to automatically do the same.

"I'm sorry, you didn't need to get up." Neal said quickly.

"It's just a habit. One strongly reinforced by Master Cheng. If I wasn't on my feet within seconds of him entering a room..." Peter trailed off, not really wanting to recount the consequences and noting once again that he was telling Neal things he wouldn't have shared with anyone.

"Okay, as long as you don't feel obligated. Seems like a silly rule for you to have to get up every time someone else does."

"In my experience humans will also stand when someone more important steps into the room or when they stand to signify the end of an interaction. When the CEOs visit even my sternest Masters would scramble to get out of their chairs quickly to show respect."

"That's true." Neal agreed. "Now that you mention it I'm a little surprised that Animula aren't taught to kneel rather than stand."

"There is an extensive list of circumstances where the standard and expectation for an Animula is to kneel."

"Let's try to avoid any of that. It was bad enough seeing you on your knees when you misinterpreted my name."

"There were a few times when we first met that it would have been appropriate for me to kneel. However I didn't think I'd have the strength to get back up again, so I took the risk that you wouldn't know any better."

"And you were right." Neal noted. "I'm pleased to see you've been playing to my weakness this whole time."

"If you had acquired me traditionally I would never have dared."

"I doubt the Market would have sold you to me. I'm willing to bet they have to be very careful with who they sell to, ensure that all the 'Masters' have the same ideologies."

"I don't know how it works, but most of my Masters have had the same basic characteristics."

"Rich and ruthless?"

Peter nodded.

"Amazing how often those two qualities coincide." Neal noted. "All the more reason that I don't feel guilty when I steal from them."

"Do you ever feel guilty?" Peter asked without thinking. "I...I'm sorry, you don't ha..."

"It's okay, it's a fair question." Neal assured. "When it comes to stealing, no, I've never felt any guilt or remorse. I certainly don't feel the slightest bit guilty for having stolen you from Cheng."

"You didn't steal me, he gave me to you in hopes that I would be a burden to you."

"Either way his loss has been our gain."

"...agreed."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Important Note: Love_pb on AO) who has been writing some short stories to go along with this story has written a piece with Mozzie and Peter that I love so much that I want to use it as a chapter! I just couldn't see writing Mozzie/Peter interaction any better so I thought 'why rewrite it if someone's already done it for me?'. Heehee. Hugs!
> 
> So the next chapter is technically here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4771583


	30. Chapter 30

Chapter Thirty

"Now that's nice..."

Neal was sitting on the couch with his laptop on the coffee table sifting through ads for spaces for rent. Discovering not only how gravely injured Peter was but also learning that he wasn't the soulless shell that Neal had been expecting had distracted him from the game that he was hosting in a month and a half. However now that Peter was healthy enough to at least be sleeping on his side of the hall Neal was finding time here and there to start planing. Thanks to Peter he already had the majority of the special guests he wanted on the invite list interested.

"No sense wasting a perfectly good set up." Neal chuckled to himself.

Neal bookmarked the large penthouse with zig-zag inlaid wooden floors, vaulted ceilings, and full glass balcony that over looked Central Park. It would cost close to a million dollars to rent and furnish it for the week, and probably another half million to actually host the game right, but if everything went according to plan they could be walking away from this with ten to twenty million in profits. Although for most con artists the prospect of a ten million dollar haul was often considered 'one last score' material Neal knew he'd have that money spent or otherwise lost in less than a year.

"Particularly splitting it three ways." Neal mused with a smile.

Although he didn't need Peter for the rest of the con Neal felt he'd more than earned his share already. Neal still wasn't sure if Peter would even accept the money, he had already hinted that he wasn't comfortable with cheating humans out of money and that he didn't have any real use for it anyway. If nothing else they could use the money to keep him fed, clothed and healthy, Mozzie had a point when he'd said that Animula are expensive 'pets'. Neal didn't see Peter as a pet, but that didn't change the fact that Peter was dependent on him for absolutely everything.

"That has to be hard." Neal sighed. "I can't even imagine being at the constant mercy of others, particularly considering how little mercy he's been shown."

Neal shook his head to clear it. He knew he needed to stop his habit of talking to himself that he'd developed over the years. Neal suddenly realized that having a few million on hand might also be needed if Peter was caught living here and someone needed bribing. Neal knew he couldn't bribe something as large as the Market, but an individual could have their silence bought easily enough. Feeling good about the up coming game and even getting excited about it Neal decided to just go ahead with contacting the agent in charge of the penthouse for a meeting about rental and sent the email.

Glancing at the time on his computer Neal noticed it was nearly eleven am, a little later than he thought. He hoped that Peter had eaten today. He had gotten a fridge for Peter's apartment and a microwave with plans of installing more of a proper kitchenette later. They still shared a lot of meals together but he didn't want Peter to have to feel like a dog begging for food every time he got hungry. Peter had already lost a significant amount of weight his first week with Neal, but he seemed to be managing to at least maintain over the second week.

Neal didn't mind Peter wanting some privacy, but he was an hour over due for his antibiotics and dressing change. He decided that he could let it go for another hour or so, but then he'd have to knock on Peter's door. The last thing anyone needed right now was for another infection to take hold. Neal kept the door to his own apartment open an inch whenever he wasn't seeking privacy himself as a signal to Peter that he was welcome to enter. If the door was closed it was understood that he needed to knock, however Neal doubted that he would ever dare disturb him unless it was an emergency when the door was shut. Even with the door slightly ajar Peter still knocked gently and waited for permission to enter.

Another half hour passed before Peter knocked at the open door. Neal had continued looking into entertainment and details for the party and hearing Peter at the door he closed the laptop. He didn't want to stress Peter with the event. Neal didn't have any plans of inviting him to the evening, Cheng would be there and Neal didn't want him having to face the monster again. He also worried that Cheng might fight to get Peter back if he learned that he survived.

"Come in." Neal called out realizing that Peter hadn't entered.

Peter stepped inside and closed the door behind himself. Fresh from the shower he looked stronger with every passing day. He still walked with his shoulder held very stiff and tended to quickly seek out a place to rest as long as Neal was already seated. Even though he denied it Neal could easily see that he was still in pain. He was more inclined to use the oral pain medication at night now that he was sleeping alone, but at the rate that he was going through it Neal suspected that he didn't use it during the day.

Peter was wearing a pair of dress slacks that didn't quite fit anymore which he'd solved by tightening his belt. Neal figured that once the wounds had properly healed and his weight stabilized that they would go out and get a new wardrobe tailored for him. Everything he owned was showing signs of wear anyway. He held his dress shirt in his hand, unable to put it on over the exposed cuts without having them bandaged for him first. Despite the amount of time he'd been unable to wear a shirt he still didn't look particularly comfortable with being half dressed and held his shirt close to his chest.

"Good morning, Peter." Neal greeted as he got to his feet.

"I'm sorry I'm late." Peter apologized. "I just..."

"Don't worry about it." Neal interrupted to keep Peter from feeling like he had to explain himself. "Have a seat, let's get your back taken care of."

Peter nodded.

"Everything okay? You're kind of quiet again today."

"I was wondering..." Peter hesitated. "I was wondering if I could get a computer, it doesn't have to be anything high powered. I just like to keep an eye on the stock market, and the finical news."

"Of course, I'm sorry I didn't think of that myself. I'll have Mozzie pick something up. Do you prefer Mac or PC? Any particular brand?"

"No. I can work with anything."

"Consider it done."

"Thank you."

"Not a problem. By the way Mozzie tells me he wants to finish that last game of chess you two started the other day."

"Really?" Peter asked doubtfully.

"I'm telling you Peter, you have a way of changing hearts and minds on Animula very quickly."

"I have not found that to be the case very often."

"That's because you've only ever really been in the company of men who prize money and power over everything and have very little humanity of their own." Neal replied seriously. "Anyone with heart can see you have soul."

Peter visibly relaxed and a genuine smile touched the corners of his lips. Smiling brightly himself Neal pulled out on of the kitchen chairs and turned it around so that he could work on Peter's shoulders. Peter hesitated, but Neal had the feeling it was only because he wasn't looking forward to the painful treatment. Neal did his best to be gentle, but the damage Cheng had done was extensive. Sighing deeply Peter sat down and folding his arms over the back of the chair he rested his chin on them.

"I'll try to be quick." Neal assured.

"Don't worry about me, better to do something right than quick."

"True."

Since Peter had recently showered there wasn't as much cleaning that needed to be done and as Peter slowly won the battle over the infection it didn't weep as much to begin with any more. Neal had thought by now he'd have more a stomach for looking at the injury, but it still made him somewhat nauseous to look at the torn flesh. The older set of marks under the fresher ones were almost completely healed. The more severe newer set were at the yellow stage that made them look more infected than they were.

Neal did as Peter had asked and made sure that everything was done right to ensure better healing rather than just a quick patch job. Peter's only sign of distress was the tension that pulled the muscles in his shoulders and neck taunt. He made a conscious effort to take deep slow breaths to keep from panting. Neal placed the moist layer of gauze in place and covered it with the dry layer. Finishing up Neal took a closer look at the four inch scar in Peter's mid back. It wasn't the first time Neal had noticed it, but this time he noticed marks on either side that indicated that it had been stitched up at some point. Without really thinking Neal gently traced his fingertip against the old scar. Peter's breath hissed across his teeth and he jerked away slightly from Neal's touch.

"I'm so sorry." Neal apologized quickly. "Did that hurt?"

"No." Peter shook his head. "Just a bad memory. One of my Masters was sick."

"They've all been sick to some degree."

"I mean he was ill."

"I don't undersa..." Neal stopped cold as he suddenly realized what must have happened. "He took your kidney?"

"It's how I met Doctor War...Taylor." Peter corrected himself from using Taylor's original name.

"He did that to you?" Neal asked in horror.

"No."

When Peter didn't continue with the story Neal circled around to the other side of the small table so that he could face Peter. Seeing that Peter was clearly lost in the past Neal sat down and gave him a moment. Eventually Peter looked up and saw the concern in Neal's expression. Neal could see the conflict in Peter's golden eyes and he was about to tell Peter that he didn't have to talk about it if he didn't want to when Peter suddenly continued.

"The original surgeon butchered me and then my Master just dumped me back at the Market. I bled out internally for days, getting weaker, no one believed me when I told them I wasn't doing well, until Taylor. He believed me, he saved my life."

"But...he left you in the Market to get sold again."

"It was still the most consideration I'd ever been shown by a human at the time."

Neal was stunned into silence for a moment. He didn't even know why it hit him so hard to hear that Peter had had an organ stolen from him when he'd already known that he'd basically had his entire life stolen from him. There was something different about stealing a part that seemed oddly more horrific than the sale of the whole. Neal decided it was the casual way that the Master didn't even care if Peter survived the theft once he had what he needed carry on with his own life that angered him the most.

"Peter...I don't even know what to say."

"It's still one of my greatest fears, that once I have nothing left to give of myself the Market will just take my flesh, sell what they can, throw the rest away."

"Is that..." Neal hesitated as his blood ran colder "is that what happens to Animula once they can no longer work?"

"I don't know. Supposedly its illegal to sell Animula organs for human use, but that could easily only truly apply to Animula that would otherwise have a life time of work ahead of them. Animula are rare after all."

"Killing the goose that lays golden eggs doesn't benefit anyone until it stops producing."

"Something like that." Peter replied vacantly. "It wouldn't surprise me to learn that Animula lives end in slaughter. I've never been told what ultimate future will be, and I've never dared to ask."

"I don't understand how anyone could be okay with knowing that they received an organ from an unwilling source."

"Humans use heart valves out of pigs and cattle all the time."

"Those are just animals."

"And I'm just Animula, commonly considered to be lower than an animal spiritually speaking."

"Don't say that, that's not true."

"Yes, it is."

"You really have been convinced that you're worthless haven't you?" Neal asked sadly. "Has it ever occurred to you that you are actually priceless?"

"That's not an easy concept for someone who has been bought and sold as many times as I have."

Neal dragged his hands through his hair in agitation. Feeling heavy hearted and painfully sick to his stomach Neal jumped to his feet. Still heavily conditioned to stand as well Peter pushed himself up and instantly lost his balance from getting to his feet too fast. Seeing that Peter was going to fall Neal automatically reached out catch him despite being slightly too far away to help. To both men's surprise Peter brought his own arm up as well in search of help almost simultaneously. The action had only taken seconds and they ended up with firm grip on each other's wrists. Neal smiled at the instinctive show of trust, Peter looked more shocked with his own reaction than anything else.

"Peter, I can't promise you that you'll never end up at the Market again. As much as I wish I could I can't guarantee that we will never get caught or otherwise discovered. As much as I hate to admit it I know that as long as the Market exists it will always be a danger to you."

Peter nodded solemnly in agreement.

"What I can promise is that I will *never* sell you, to the Market or anyone else." Neal said seriously. "If you leave here it will either be by your own choice or by forces beyond either of our control. I wish I could do better, but any other promise would be an empty one and you deserve more than that."

Neal released his hold on Peter's wrist but only so he could offer his hand for Peter to shake. Although he had instantly released Neal's wrist it took him a second to accept the offer to shake his hand.

"Thank you, Neal, for everything. I wish I could offer something even half as meaningful in return."

"Just being given the chance to help someone other than myself has already been life changing..."


	31. Chapter 31

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTE: Okay, so here's to hoping that you are all interested in learning a little more about Peter's tragic past, because this flash back chapter got waaaaay out of hand. ;)

Chapter Thirty-one

Twenty-one years old Peter stood where the two glass walls met in a large corner office. Nearly sixty stories up Peter was watching a breathtaking lightning storm rage over the panoramic view of the city. Rain lashed violently against the glass from all directions as it was caught up in the drafty turbulent winds that surrounded the skyscraper. Peter's face lit up seconds after the sky did from a massive flash of lightning that ripped through his view. He loved witnessing the raw power of nature and she was in rare form today as purple and white electricity streaked down on the city.

Peter had always enjoyed a sweeping view of the city, it was one of the only near constants in his life. He didn't realize it at the time but the Market had two very strict rules for corporations looking to own Animula. They had to own a minimum of three Animula that had to have separate living quarters for each but also access to a commons area. The second rule was that their work space had to have an unobstructed view of the city from no less than twenty stories up. The rules didn't apply to private owners, but private owners tended to be rich enough that most rules didn't apply to them anyway.

The only times Peter lost his privileges of a stunning view of the outside world and at least a vague sense of companionship was when he was returned to the Market. Going back wasn't like when he'd been raised there. He had been placed in isolation for a terrifying amount of time when he'd first 'imprinted', but eventually he was brought back to more of classroom cohort type environment during the day even though interaction beyond basic pleasantries was still discouraged. His living quarters at the time had also been larger and in many ways nicer than the apartment Neal currently lived in with a breathtaking view.

It wasn't anything like that when he was returned after his first sale. Now that he was considered 'active' the Market had no interest in coddling him. In sharp contrast to life in the corporate world when an Animula was sold back to the Market they ended up in a windowless fourteen by fourteen foot space that was mostly taken up by a place to sleep and a desk to work at. There was also a two week mandatory solitary before they could even be reconsidered for sale. Peter had already been returned twice, and he didn't want it to happen again. The Market did its best to ensure that its Animula wanted nothing more than to stay in the working world.

Watching the storm in the corner office that he shared with three other Animula Peter smiled to himself. This was his third owner and he was determined to keep this one. His first owner had been a disastrous match for them both. A highly formal and strict Master right out of the gate had only enhanced his own defiant nature leading to a year long cycle of conflict and punishment that left both sides resentful of one another. The first month of his return to the Market he had been basically uncontrollable, determined to not be sold again. However by the end of three months trapped in solitary he had become willing once more to follow any command just for a shot at getting out of the four closed in walls and see the sky from behind the safety of glass once more.

His second home had gone better it was a large company with nearly two dozen Animula on site. His position there had lasted nearly two years, he'd even almost managed to make a human friend there. It had been easier to just blend in and go mostly unnoticed by his Masters there. His direct Master in particular only cared about results and interacted with Peter in person only as a last resort. The greater amount of freedom to work as he wanted to had helped. However while sorting through past accounts to see how to best run future ones he started to uncover skeletons that his Masters wanted to remain buried. Rather than trying to redirect him it was easier for the large corporation to simply trade him back to the Market for someone who was less curious.

Luckily he had only ended up with one week beyond the mandatory two week isolation before being sold once more. This firm that he'd been with for the past four months dealt mostly in investments and hedge funds. Moderate in size they had a large human staff with the four Animula on hand for detailed work and special accounts. His new Master seemed a little on the timid side, clearly a little uncomfortable with dealing with Animula, which worked fine for Peter.

Peter hadn't noticed but the other three Animula kept glancing up at him while he stood by the window. Peter was the youngest of the group by at least twenty years. They had all been with the company for just over ten years and so far they had been very wary of the young addition. They had barely spoken to him and he wasn't even sure that they knew his name despite his efforts to introduce himself. It wasn't as though Peter felt excluded though since they rarely talked among one another either. It didn't really matter, he just enjoyed having others somewhat like himself around.

Eventually Anthony got to his feet and joined Peter by the window. Peter smiled as Anthony looked out over the city clearly trying to figure out what Peter was looking at and not realizing that it was the storm itself that had captured his attention. Anthony turned his attention to Peter and their gold eyes met for an instant before Anthony dropped his gaze.

"It's 'Peter', right?" Anthony asked.

"That's right."

"Anthony." He introduced himself unnecessarily.

"I know." Peter smiled but Anthony was still looking at the floor.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm watching the storm. It's beautiful, isn't it?"

Anthony risked a quick glance out the window just in time to see a bolt of lightning strike one of the lightning rods on a building in the distance. He seemed captivated for a moment but quickly shook his head to clear it.

"Master Allens won't be happy with you just staring out the window." Anthony cautioned.

"I'm compiling a new program for an algorithm for stock sorting and selection. My computer is busy even if I'm not. Besides it's almost five."

"I just don't want see you get sold."

"Thank you." Peter said genuinely.

"I...I saw your arm when you were in the commons area the other night, you're too young to be working on your third owner already."

"I'm still learning." Peter admitted. "How many owners have you had?"

"Two."

Peter was taken aback to hear such a low number, Anthony was in his early forties. Peter looked over to the other two Animula in the room who were watching them, both of which were older than Anthony. Jack held up his hand with three fingers, and William silently admitted to having five owners. Peter rubbed at his tattooed list through his sleeve, at the rate he was going he'd have twenty or more owners by the time he reached their age. He was just about to ask Anthony what could do to avoid being sold when the door to their shared office opened. Anthony jerked violently away from Peter, looking terrified to have been caught talking with him.

"Peter," the intruding human said "Allens wants to see you in his office."

"Yes, Master Wentworth." Peter replied.

Wentworth gave Peter an uneasy look before retreating. Peter didn't understand that the human staff wasn't used to the Animula learning all of their names. Usually the use of a last name along with the Master title was reserved for direct supervisors and high company officials. Peter had been working hard on learning faces and names assuming that it was a good quality to have.

Not wanting to make Allens wait Peter picked his blazer up off the back of his chair and slipped it on. Making sure his tie was tight and straight he headed towards the door. Wentworth hadn't waited for him, he had just related the message and left. Peter was only a little nervous about being called into Allens' office, in the past it had just been his Master assigning him a new account or asking questions on a portfolio.

"Peter..." Anthony called out "keep your head down."

"Right. Thank you."

Peter knew that Anthony meant the advice more literally than figuratively. Peter knew the expectation was for him to keep his golden eyes to the floor, particularly when addressing humans, but it was a rule he easily forgot. Coming to his Master's office Peter knocked on the closed door and waited to be invited in. Gaining an invitation Peter stepped into the well decorated office. He was surprised to find Allens standing in front of his desk rather than sitting at it. There was someone standing next to him that Peter didn't recognize. Walking to the middle of the room Peter took Anthony's advice and kept his head down.

"How may I help you, Master Allens?" Peter asked.

"This is him?" The stranger asked Allens. "He seems respectful."

"It's not that he isn't respectful or obedient, it's just...there is something wrong with him. He's more trouble than the other three combined."

"I'm sorry, Master, I try to..." Peter started to defend himself.

"Peter," Allens sighed "speak when spoken to."

"Yes, Master. I'm sorry, I didn't mean an..."

"You're doing it again." Allens cut Peter off before turning to the other man. "See what I mean, Miller?"

Trying to do better Peter bowed his head and fell silent. He didn't have any idea that he had been causing any trouble having misread the social cues from the human staff. A burning curiosity about the stranger in the room forced Peter to risk looking up at him. Miller furrowed his brow when Peter actually made eye contact with him. Knowing full well his mistake Peter looked away quickly. Becoming increasingly uncomfortable Peter held his hands behind his back in hopes that the more submissive body language would make the humans happy.

"You bought him from the New York Market?" Miller asked doubtfully.

"I did, and paid a small fortune for him. Not that he isn't good at what he does, in fact he's one of the best I've seen, particularly given his age. It's just he has way too many 'learned behaviors', it unsettles my staff and it's starting to rub off on the other Animula."

Peter started having trouble breathing when Allens mentioned Anthony and the others. The last thing he wanted was to get them in trouble or worse yet sold. When Miller suddenly stepped up to him Peter froze completely. With the man closer Peter could see the insignia embroidered into his lapel, a single golden ring with inward radiating lines like the marks around his eyes. It was the sign of a Market employee. Peter's mouth instantly went dry as he realized that he was most likely going to be sold back to the Market.

"You really don't follow commands very well, do you?" Miller asked Peter suddenly.

"What?" Peter asked confused. "I...I'm sorry, Master Miller, what did you want? I didn't hear you."

"I want you to kneel down. I shouldn't have to ask."

Peter's last Master hadn't liked it when he'd knelt, he had wanted him on his feet so that he could leave his office as quickly as possible. As a result Peter had fallen out of the habit, particularly in response to just a visual command rather than a verbal one. Miller stared at him expectantly, but Peter was so terrified of the prospect of being returned to the Market that he had already forgotten the order.

"I do see what you mean with this one." Miller noted to Allens.

"I'm sorry." Peter apologized again as he suddenly remembered what Miller wanted and got down on his knees.

"He apologizes constantly." Allens added. "I don't need an Animula that apologizes, I need on that acts right the first time."

"I can fix this." Miller said confidently as he looked down on Peter. "In fact the new technology we just came out with is perfect for this."

"I don't mean to be trouble." Peter said quietly from his place on the floor. "I thought I was doing well here, my portfolios are all performing exceptionally..."

"You do everything I ask, Peter," Allens admitted sounding guilty "and you do it well, it's just you..."

"No, don't interact with him like that." Miller interrupted. "You're just making it worse. Half his problem is the way he questions humans, if you constantly answer him it just encourages him."

Allens just nodded. Peter wished that his Master had been allowed to finish his sentence, he didn't understand how he could be doing everything he asked and yet still be doing wrong somehow. Miller studied Peter for a moment, waiting to see if he would look up again and eventually Peter did. Miller smiled at him and although confused Peter smiled back at him. He knew that most humans became uncomfortable when he smiled, but since Miller had initiated the expression Peter hoped that it was what he wanted.

"Interesting." Miller said to himself.

Remembering Anthony's advice Peter brought his head back down and tried to concentrate on a small stain that marred the plush white carpet that he was kneeling on. Allens had his blinds dawn, but Peter could still see flashes of the storm outside through the corner of his eye but the storm no longer comforted him, if anything the flickering light just put him more on edge. Miller walked over to a brief case that he'd set down on one of the chairs and flicked it open. When he approached Peter he automatically glanced up. His handler at the Market had spent months when he was a teenager trying to remove his instinct to keep aware of his surroundings and looking up when approached, but eventually he'd given up. Peter's stomach tightened painful when he caught sight of a black band in Miller's hand. He'd never seen anything like it before but he feared the way Miller held it, like he was afraid it might bite him.

"What is that?" Peter asked nervously.

"Loosen your tie," Miller ordered ignoring Peter's question "undo the top two buttons of your shirt."

Peter glanced to Allens for confirmation of the unusual order.

"Do as he says, Peter." Allens said. "He's here to help us. I don't want to have to sell you."

"I don't want to be sold." Peter said honestly.

"Then do as I ask." Miller said gently.

Giving in Peter nodded. He reached up, finding his hands shaking, and pulled his tie loose enough to give him access to the buttons which he undid with a little bit of difficulty. Peter weld his eyes shut and forced himself to stay still as Miller opened the black band and secured it around his throat with a heavy click. It didn't weight much, but it was tight enough to make Peter acutely aware of it. Miller checked the device before turning his attention to Allens.

"This is a neural stimulating transdermal band, but we just call them 'collars'." Miller explained. "Since the incident with the Animula that supposedly murdered his Master there has been growing request for some sort of safeguard. However there are multiple uses for this technology and reconditioning is certainly one of them."

"How does it work?" Allens asked.

"The actual mechanism is very complicated. However all you need to do is to use a passcode anytime you receive a behavior from him that you don't like and want to stop. The collar issues a correction and over a short period of time he will associate the two and end the behavior."

"A correction?" Allens hesitated. "I...uh...I'm not sure that I want to physically hurt him. I don't feel threatened by him, he's just too huma..."

"Don't worry. Animula don't feel pain the way humans do. He won't cry out or anything." Miller assured. "It basically triggers the Animula instinct to kneel and helps encourage natural submissive behavior. It's certainly more humane to use a collar than to just sell him back to the Market, adjusting to new Masters is very stressful."

Listening to the humans talk about the collar Peter's heart started to race painfully. He didn't understand what was happening, but the hesitation in his Master's voice and the ease with which Miller spoke of pain was enough to make him nervous. Swallowing hard he could feel the collar tighten around his throat and he had to resist the urge to gag.

"Peter," Miller said firmly "stand up."

Already on high alert Peter was quick to get to his feet. Allens seemed impressed by the effect of the collar already. Peter's thoughts were tripping over one another as he tried to recall exactly which behaviors humans disliked. He'd been taught a long list of them by his frustrated handler when he was young, but he'd never managed to take any of it very seriously. He had always felt that if he was respectful and did good work that he'd be treated well. Miller stepped up to Peter causing him to bring his head up. The second that Peter looked up at him Miller set off the collar.

"Pareo."

Peter didn't understand the word, thinking at first that it was some sort of command meant for him. The collar he was wearing beeped sharply causing him to jerk in surprise. Before he could ask what was happening the collar bit down on the back of his neck. Far from having some instinct to kneel triggered Peter simply found his ability to stand violently stolen from him by the agonizing lash of energy that raced down his back.

Finding himself dropped to his knees Peter fought to recover from the 'correction' feeling like a bolt of lightning from the storm outside had somehow reached him through the glass. Punishment with his first Master had usually entailed longer work hours, or at worst a few days of starvation. It hadn't been anything like this and Peter was still unclear as to what he'd done wrong to deserve such harsh treatment. He had been told before that Animula didn't experience pain the way humans did, but he didn't know any other way to classify the deeply unpleasant sensation. If it wasn't true pain it was certainly just as bad if not worse. He would have screamed, but his voice had been ripped from him to the point that he feared that he might not get it back.

"Stand up." Miller ordered.

Trembling with the effort Peter quickly forced himself to his feet, surprising himself that he was able to get there. Miller had backed up and once again stepped towards him. Recalling how it had been the moment that he'd made eye contact that had caused Miller to use the passcode Peter made it a point to lower his head further to keep from looking up this time. With his senses still spinning from the first correction he wasn't sure he could handle another one right now without passing out.

"See how quickly he learns?" Miller beamed. "Very good, Peter, I bet your Market handler spent months trying to fix your eye contact issue."

Peter just nodded, but regretted doing so as it shifted the collar slightly and made him even more aware of it than he'd already been. It was all he could do to keep from reaching up and clawing at it. Panting for breath he just wanted the lesson to be over with so that he could just go back to work. Having trouble keeping his eyes focused he just let his vision go blurry leaving him with the vacant expression that Neal hated so much as he waited for whatever was going to happen next.

"That really is amazing." Allens noted. "He seems better already."

"Collars are going to revolutionize Animula handling. It's going to be beneficial for everyone. The Animula are going to know exactly what we want of them, and we are going to get it."

"Thank you." Allens reached out to shake Miller's hand. "Peter's skills really are remarkable and I didn't want to have to get rid of him because of behavioral issues."

"Now you won't have to. I will give you detailed written instructions on how to retrain him, and I will give you all my personal contact information."

"Thank you."

"I will need a few minutes alone with him, just some standard Market checks on his health and whatnot. It won't take long."

"Of course. I'll be out in the lounge when you are ready, just send him to his quarters when you're done."

As much as Peter hated Allens at this moment for calling the Market on him Peter was terrified of being left alone with Miller. He took a breath to say something, but then he noticed how carefully Miller was watching him. Realizing that anything he said would just give the humans cause to use the collar again Peter kept quiet. Once Allens was gone Miller studied Peter for a moment before making a slight gesture with his hand. Peter instantly went back down on his knees having caught the hand signal for kneeling this time.

"You do learn fast. This is going to work."

"I don't understand..."

"You don't want to end up back at the Market, do you?"

"No, Master." Peter replied honestly. "I like it here, the humans treat me well, the other Animula are starting to talk to me a little...I thought everything was going well."

"You must have imprinted early, I've seen this before, but you are the most severe case I've seen." Miller sighed. "I honestly think the collar is going to help you."

"It...it hurts." Peter admitted quietly. "I know I'm not supposed to feel pain, but I don't know how else to descri..."

"I know it isn't pleasant, but it is going to be worth the results. I currently have the collar set to less than half of what it is capable of..."

"It can be worse?" Peter asked horrified.

"Yes, and I want you to keep that in mind. I'm going to leave it on a lower setting for now, hopefully it will be enough. The 'pain' it causes is there to help reset your instincts so that you don't upset your Masters with your strong human tendencies."

"I'm not trying to be human. I just want to belong somewhere other than the Market."

"That's good, because if you end up back at the Market again, you're not only going to end up with at least a month worth of solitary, but you're also going to be added to the List."

"The List? I don't know what that means."

"Honestly, I'm surprised you're not on it already. It reflects very poorly on the Market when one of our Animula act too human or get constantly returned and traded. After too many tries with any Master who will buy you, you end up on the List, which is a list of proven Masters. Ones the Market knows it can count on to have a strong hand."

"I want to stay here." Peter repeated.

"I know, and I want you to. Now then, Allens is likely to heavily use the collar at first."

"No, this really isn't necessary." Peter said quickly. "Please, just tell me what you want from me."

"Clearly it doesn't work that way, I know the Market does its best to remove the behaviors from early imprinting and up until now they have always failed. Stronger measures are needed, particularly for your case. I've never had a conversation with an Animula like this, you are far too human in your behavior."

"Please don't punish me for that, it's not my fault that I'm broken."

"I know it's not, but we still need to fix you. Just try to learn something every time Allens uses your collar, whether or not you think you've done 'wrong'. Take cues from the other Animula here, but above all keep Allens happy. If I have to come back here in a week because you aren't doing better I'm going to turn that collar up on high. I don't want to have to do that."

"You won't have to." Peter assured.

"I believe you. I know you wan to do well, and you will."

"Will...will I ever get the collar off or do I have to wear it for the rest of my life?"

"You only have to wear it as long as Allens says you do. Hopefully in a few months you'll be like any other Animula. Like I said keep him happy."

"I will."

"Keep this home, Peter, it's likely the best one you're ever going to get."

"Yes, Master. Thank you."

Peter tried bowing deeper despite already being on his knees in hopes that Miller would allow him to go to the relative safety of his quarters. When Miller just stared down at him Peter was determined not to take the bait to look up. However when Miller knelt down in front of him he was so surprised that he couldn't stop himself. He braced himself for Miller to set off the collar again, however Miller just reached out and tapped at the collar. Starting to shake again Peter tried to resist questioning Miller's actions, but eventually his nerves got the best of him.

"Wha...what are you doing, Master?"

"I hate to do this, but I think I need to show you what this thing is really capable of, make sure you truly understand the stakes here. This is going to help you keep this home, but only if we do it right."

"Please, Master, I understand. Don't hurt me again, please." Peter begged. "I don't need..."

"You talk too much, Peter. This is going to help you with that. I'm just trying to help you."

"No, please..."

"Pareo."


	32. Chapter 32

Chapter Thirty-two

"Where's Golden Eyes?"

"He has a name, Mozzie, and I'd appreciate it if you'd use it."

"No promises." Mozzie said flatly.

"Mozzie..."

"Okay, fine. Where's Peter?"

"He's probably sleeping."

"Sleeping? It's almost ten."

"And until recently he was almost dead, so cut him some slack."

Neal gave Mozzie a look that told him if he said 'no promises' again it might lead to physical violence. Mozzie put his hands up slightly in surrender. Neal had thought that Mozzie was getting more used to Peter, but realized it was too much to hope for to already have a proper truce between them. Neal had been reading on the couch when Mozzie had let himself in through the slightly open door. Stepping inside Mozzie closed the door firmly.

"Don't do that, leave it open." Neal said. "It let's Peter know he can come in."

"I figured as much, which is why I closed it."

"Mozzie..." Neal growled again.

"Just for a few minutes." Mozzie assured. "We need a touch of privacy for a moment."

"Why?"

Mozzie didn't answer he just went over to the kitchen table where Neal had his laptop. He had a shoulder bag with him which he pulled out another laptop from. He opened both and started running some program on them. Neal joined Mozzie who was busy typing into a word document on the new laptop.

"'The quick brown fox jumped over the lazy dog.'" Neal read the screen. "Mozzie what are you doing?"

"Testing something, this sentence uses every letter in the alphabet."

"Is this laptop for Peter?"

"It is." Mozzie confirmed. "Okay, let's see if worked."

Neal didn't bother asking what Mozzie was talking about. Turning to Neal's computer Mozzie opened up a program that Neal wasn't familiar with. It didn't surprise him, Mozzie was constantly downloading things onto his computer. Neal basically just used the laptop to surf the web and as a glorified typewriter. Mozzie clicked on a menu selection on the program and it brought up a window that looked like a screen capture of Peter's screen with a blank word document open on it. Mozzie hit a small 'play' icon at the bottom and on the screen capture of the word document and the test sentence appeared as though it was being typed.

"Perfect." Mozzie beamed with pride.

"Mozzie, what is this?"

"I installed some stuff that will record everything that happens on this laptop so that you can review it, it will also allow you access to view the screen in real time."

"No." Neal said firmly. "I don't need to spy on Peter's computer. Take it off."

"You don't have to use it if you don't want, but I'm leaving it on here."

"And if he finds it? I barely have his trust as it is."

"He's not going to find it, everything on your side is password protected, and there is no trace of the software on his end. He can turn this thing inside out and reformat it, it won't matter since it works on a hardware chip. If he takes the laptop apart physically it just looks like it's part of the video card."

"Mozzie..."

Neal gave in before bothering with a proper argument. Past experience had proven to him that there was no real point in it, Mozzie wasn't going to remove the chip. Getting to his feet Neal went over to the door and opened it slightly again. Peter tended to spend a majority of his waking hours in Neal's apartment giving Neal the impression that he didn't like being alone. He needed his dressing changed and antibiotics in the morning, but he rarely just returned to his side of the hall way afterward. It had been two days since Neal's promise to him and in that time he seemed to have relaxed considerably. He still flinched if Neal moved too quickly but Neal reasoned that instinct might take months if not years to fade.

Neal went back over to where Mozzie was still playing with the 'spy ware'. Reaching over Neal shut the laptop screen on Mozzie in silent disapproval. Rolling his eyes Mozzie got to his feet and went into the kitchen to raid the wine selection. Picking out a white from the fridge he held it up in offer to Neal as well who declined feeling it was a little early to start drinking. Mozzie looked like he was about to say something when there was a light knock at the door.

"Come in." Neal called out.

Peter stepped into the room with his hair still damp from a shower and his shirt held close to his chest. Spotting Mozzie in the kitchen Peter automatically took a step back holding his shirt tighter. Neal smiled in hopes of easing Peter's discomfort around Mozzie, but having dropped his gaze to the floor Peter didn't see the gesture.

"I'm sorry," Peter said quietly "I will come back later."

"No, Peter, you can't leave your back exposed to the air for too long. If the wounds dry out it is really going to set back your healing." Neal warned. "Come on, I'll be quick, I'm kind of getting skilled at the whole dressing change thing."

Peter glanced nervously at Mozzie and stayed glued to his place in the door way. Neal hadn't thought that Peter still feared Mozzie to this degree, but then he suddenly realized that what was probably bothering him was the idea of Mozzie seeing his wounds. He had been so secretive about his injuries in the beginning that it had nearly cost him his life. Neal was about to offer to come over to Peter's side of the house to do the treatment in private when Peter sighed heavily and stepped inside.

Peter went out of his way to keep as much distance between himself and Mozzie as possible on his way to the kitchen table, but he still had to pass through Mozzie's line of sight with his back turned to him near the end of the journey. Neal had already gotten to his feet and turned the chair on the far side of the table around so that Peter could sit down. Neal kept a careful watch on Mozzie's expression when he caught sight of Peter's tattered shoulders. As much as he knew it was hard on Peter he felt it might be good for Mozzie to see how Peter was a victim and certainly didn't deserve to be collared.

Seeing the full extent of the damage physically dropped Mozzie's jaw slightly and raised his eyebrows in shock at the sheer cruelty behind the multiple beatings. Mozzie had seen Peter while he was critically ill, but he'd never actually seen the angry wounds or the other scars that Peter wore. Peter sat down in the backwards chair and resting his hands on the back of it he just stared blankly at them. Looking a little wide eyed Mozzie looked up at Neal in horror. Standing behind Peter Neal just glared at Mozzie, he didn't often wish ill will on his friend, but he wanted some consequence to Mozzie's harsh attitude towards the Animula.

Mozzie furrowed his brow and rubbed at the back of his own neck. Figuring that it was the unusual scar across the back of Peter's neck that Mozzie was wondering about Neal reached up and wrapped his hand around his throat to signify to him that it had been a collar that had burned that mark there. Neal wasn't exactly sure what Mozzie's reaction was going to be, it wouldn't have surprised him if he had just quietly excused himself and left. Instead Mozzie put down his glass of wine and stepped forward to take a seat across the table from Peter. Continuing to stare at his own hands Peter didn't acknowledge Mozzie.

"I...uh..." Mozzie hesitated "I was raised in an orphanage...abandoned there as a baby."

It was Neal's turn to be surprised, he had known Mozzie for years before he'd felt comfortable enough to share his past. Peter was just confused as he brought his eyes back into focus to look up at Mozzie in mild confusion.

"I was short, quiet, and weird, not to mention heavily picked on by the others...so not much as changed."

Mozzie chuckled uncomfortably, but Peter just continued to stare at him, unsure why he was being told this story. Neal kept quiet, he wasn't anymore sure why Mozzie was sharing the story or where it was headed.

"Anyway," Mozzie continued "when I was nine an orphanage across the city got shut down, and several of the kids from there got transferred to mine. The only thing harder than being a life long resident of an orphanage is to be 'fresh fish' in a new one. There was one boy in particular, Ethan, that didn't fit in well even by 'fresh fish' standards. He was two years older than I was, and nearly twice my height although he was considerably more lanky. From that first day Ethan was even more of an outcast that I was. He was oddly calm and quiet, never smiled or cried, in fact he only spoke when spoken to and then answered in as few words as possible."

Neal found himself holding his breath as he listened to Mozzie's story, fearing it was going to end in tragedy of some description. In all the years he'd known him Mozzie hadn't once mentioned anyone name Ethan, or really any one in particular from his childhood. Mozzie had more of Peter's attention now as well.

"The other kids teased and bullied him at first because he was different, but they gave up because he never really reacted to any of it. I admired his pacifist solution, it wasn't one I'd tried before so I starting hanging out near him and although he didn't exactly welcome me he didn't protest my presence either. It meant a lot to me to have someone older that didn't mind having me around, and the other kids started leaving me alone." Mozzie paused for a moment, a faint smile touched his lips at the memory. "For two years we were basically inseparable, I'm not sure anyone else would have categorized what we had as a true friendship, we didn't really talk, he wasn't interested in playing any games, we stuck together mostly out of a 'strength in numbers' philosophy. He never even called me by name, but he was there for me more than any of the other kids were."

"Until he went gold." Peter said quietly.

"That's right." Mozzie nodded solemnly.

"Ethan was Animula?" Neal asked in surprise.

"He was, and he didn't just 'go gold' he went insane." Mozzie said darkly. "Ethan had started getting restless, for two days he just paced around the play yard during the day and his room at night. One morning he didn't come down for breakfast and I was sent to bring him downstairs..."

Mozzie stopped, uncomfortable with the conclusion of a story he hadn't shared with anyone. Peter looked like he was getting a little restless himself as he shifted his weight in his chair and nearly got to his feet before thinking better of it. Neal had never heard of any Animula being raised outside the Market, the Market paid for all testing and the payments they offered to anyone with an Animula were large enough to entice anyone. Particularly considering that it wasn't legal to keep an unregistered Animula even if it was technically your own. They weren't considered human and therefore they couldn't be considered family.

"What happened? Please..." Peter pressed when Mozzie didn't continue.

"...I found Ethan in the bathroom, crying. I'd never seen him shed a single tear before. He looked up at me and I gasped at the gold rings around his eyes. I had been told stories of Animula from the older kids, they were talked about like monsters to scare us, soulless creatures that would steal your soul for their own, demons that had signed a deal with the rich and powerful."

"I've heard those same stories." Peter said bitterly. "Believe me I never signed up for any of this."

"Ethan must have been terrified to learn what he was." Neal said sympathetically.

"Terrified or not he took one look at me and he launched himself at me."

"He attacked you?" Peter asked in disbelief.

"He almost killed me." Mozzie whispered in horror as he recalled the memory. "He was so much stronger than I was. By the time help arrived Ethan had fractured my face in four places, broken my shoulder, my wrist, and cracked six of my ribs. I had always considered him my friend and without a word he tried to murder me. In the end Mr. Jeffries had to knock him unconscious to get him to stop."

"What happened to him?" Peter asked.

"What else? The Market came and took him away." Mozzie sighed. "All my life I've just assumed that Animula are just that: animals. I thought he'd turned on me because it was his nature. However as Neal already pointed out he was probably terrified and seeing how you've been treated he had every right to be. I don't say this often...but, I'm sorry. I was worried about Neal, I didn't think he was going to be a strong Master and that you'd quickly become out of control the way Ethan did and try to hurt him. But if you didn't try to kill whoever was beating you like that, you certainly aren't going to hurt Neal."

"You're wrong." Peter sighed.

"What?" Mozzie asked confused.

"I did see Neal as a weak Master, and I did try to kill him."

Mozzie looked up sharply at Neal who self consciously rubbed the fading bruise across his throat.

"Peter, you attacked me after a life time of being pushed and tortured while you had a fever that would scramble anyone's thinking and besides you didn't kill me even though you could have." Neal pointed out. "I don't think the actions of a terrified boy and a heavily abused and delusional man can be used as an argument that Animula are somehow inherently dangerous. Human have far more to fear from each other than from any Animula."

"And I get the sense that you wouldn't have feared Neal so much if I hadn't mentioned collaring you...I didn't really know how they worked." Mozzie added sheepishly. "Again, I'm sorry, no one deserves to be tortured like that."

Peter nodded in acceptance of the apology, but he had become mostly lost in thought and his eyes lost some of their focus again. Mozzie became uncomfortable again. Neal knew how hard it must have been for him to share the story and he appreciated it. Knowing Mozzie any moment now he would most likely act as though none of this ever happened, however at least he wouldn't be mentioning collars again any time soon. Mozzie got to his feet and pushed the laptop he had brought towards Peter.

"This is for you."

"Thank you." Peter said as he looked up at Mozzie. "Thank you for sharing your past with me, and for trusting me with your friend. I won't hurt him again."

"Better not," Mozzie said with a casual smile "remember, I know karate."

"I will keep that in mind."

Mozzie chuckled, just as Neal had predicted he was acting as though nothing serious had happened or had been shared. Bluff and bravado when it came to his emotions were Mozzie's greatest defense. Peter didn't look like he had taken Mozzie's threat seriously which was a good sign, but he did appear deeply effected by the story. Mozzie looked up at Neal, searching his face for forgiveness. Neal smiled warmly at his friend to let him know that things were good between them. Mozzie gave Neal a shallow bow and made some excuse about having to be somewhere important before leaving.

Once Mozzie was gone Peter shifted his weight and growled in pain as one of the marks that had started to dry out cracked and a thin trail of blood ran down his back. Neal hadn't thought that they had been talking long but the wounds were in a delicate stage of healing and didn't take well to being exposed to the air. Neal informed Peter that he was going to work on the area and Peter just nodded. Neal really was becoming skilled at the bandages and after cleaning up the blood he made quick work of completing the job.

"All done."

"Thank you, Mast...Neal." Peter corrected himself.

"Peter? You okay?" Neal asked knowing that Peter tended to fall back into the 'Master' title when he was stressed.

"I had always wondered what an Animula raised outside the Market would be like." Peter admitted quietly. "Ethan is...not what I was expecting."

"I don't know what the Market is like, but I know that life at the orphanage was harsh. Mozzie almost never talks about it. It's not like Ethan was raised in a loving family, and he had no warning that one day he'd wake up different."

"That's a good point, I always knew what I was."

"I know not all Animula are as spirited as you, they couldn't be, there would have a been a revolt long ago if they were. However more and more I get the feeling that they are seen as soulless only because people want them to be so that they can justify keeping them as slaves."

"I've met Animula ranging from complete shells of men to those who you would swear were human if they just closed their eyes. Most are closer to acting just as soulless as the Market wants them to be, but it's not universal."

"Do you think that any Animula raised in the right environment would mature to be, for lack of a better term: 'human'? Has anyone ever thought that Animula is just a simple genetic disorder and that Animula don't even really exist? Animula come from human parents, the children may start out disconnected but clearly something changes."

"I don't know about any of that. All I know is that when I started to turn gold they separated me from the others, they said I 'imprinted' too soon, treated it like it was a bad thing. They said they could 'fix me', make me like any other Animula."

"They failed, and I'm glad they did." Neal smiled. "You're certainly not soulless, Peter, and that leads me to doubt that any Animula is. Maybe you are human after all."

"I hope not." Peter whispered.

"Why not?"

"Because if Animula aren't different from humans, then I've spent my entire life in captivity for the meaningless fact that my eyes are a different color than yours."


	33. Chapter 33

Chapter thirty-three

Sitting at the kitchen table Peter played with the yellow rice and shrimp dish that Neal had made them for lunch. It was good, but Peter just didn't have an appetite. After the brief conversation with Neal once Mozzie had left Peter had fallen into a silence that hadn't even realize had lasted for several hours until Neal offered him lunch. Keeping track of time had never been one of Peter's strong suits, in his life there was a real advantage to just letting time slip by unnoticed. Lost in thought Peter had barely moved while his mind drifted to days past. For his part Neal had left Peter alone, seeing that he had obviously hit a nerve.

Neal wasn't the first person to ever suggest to Peter that he was human. Beyond the fact that nearly all of the trouble he'd had with owners in his life stemmed from being 'too human' Elizabeth had never accepted the idea that he was anything less or even different than she was. He had pointed out once that there was no denying that he had a grasp of math and patterns that was certainly inhuman. She had countered with the argument that savants in math, art, or music had never been considered anything other than human.

Peter hadn't argued the matter further with her, but at the same time he had never really believed in the possibility of his own humanity. Even now it really wasn't having the subject brought up that had caused him to turn in on his own thoughts for the past few hours. It was how the conversation had brought his thoughts back to Elizabeth. When he'd been struggling just to survive it been easier to distract himself from thinking about her, but as he healed and the physical pain began to fade across his shoulders the all too familiar deep ache in his chest was returning.

Picking at the bright yellow rice Peter glanced over at the laptop that Mozzie had given him. He didn't want to appear to eager to have the device so he was waiting until he would usually retreat to privacy of his own room come bed time. He knew eventually he would need to start spending more time on his own anyway. For the time being Neal didn't seem to mind having him around and he still found himself anxious when he was alone. As nice as the space Neal had offered him was, and despite the fact that the door wasn't locked, it was still a four walled windowless space that managed to trigger his primal fear of solitary. The queen sized bed and homey feel of the room didn't help as several times he'd woken in the night expecting Elizabeth to be next to him. Still half asleep he would reach over only to discover the far side of bed cold.

"Peter?" Neal asked softly.

Having not been paying attention to his surroundings for a change Peter jerked violently at the sound of his name. He glanced up quickly at Neal before automatically looking away.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you."

"It's easy to do."

"I've noticed." Neal smiled slightly. "I just wanted you to know that you don't have to eat that if you don't want to."

"It's good, I'm just not very hungry."

"That's fine. I made enough that it's probably going to be dinner as well anyway. We can just put it in the fridge for later."

"Thank you." Peter said vacantly.

Still staring at the rice Peter knew he was falling back into old habits, but at the moment he didn't have the energy to do better. Neal watched him for a few minutes before putting his fork down over his own half eaten meal and pushing the plate away. Once again Peter found himself looking up, although he knew Neal didn't care Peter marveled at his own stubbornness in not learning to keep his eyes down. Neal smiled to encourage him to keep his head up and Peter suddenly found himself having a very bitter thought over the fact that for better or worse someone was always trying to retrain or recondition him. Neal saw the darkness that had fallen across Peter's expression, but he misinterpreted it.

"I'm sorry if I insulted you earlier by suggesting that you might be human, it wasn't my intent to upset you."

"It's okay, you're not the first to suggest it."

"That doesn't surprise me, you're not anything like what I expected from an Animula."

"If it's any consolation you're not anything like what I expected from a human either." Peter said.

"I will take that as a compliment."

"It is. I thought I was in serious trouble that first morning here."

"Really?" Neal asked sounding hurt. "I hope you didn't think that I was going to be as abusive as Cheng."

"No." Peter assured. "My initial fear was that you'd just sell me to the Market. I will admit that my value has taken a nose dive over the past few years, but even in my condition you still could have easily made..."

"Whoa, stop there." Neal interrupted hastily. "I'm really not comfortable with knowing what your price tag is. I don't even want to hear an estimate."

"You don't know what an Animula is worth?" Peter asked surprised.

"Never had any reason to look into it. I assume it's an impressive sum, but I think it would be healthier for us both if we not talk about actual figures. I honestly don't want to know what you're 'worth', it's a disgusting concept to put a number on your life. It doesn't matter anyway I already made a promise not to sell you at any price, and I still mean that."

"Thank you." Peter said warmly. "Even after you didn't sell me right away I still really didn't think you'd keep me more than a week, let alone care for me if you found out I was sick. I wasn't expecting a reckless con man and self-admitted remorseless criminal to also have great deal of compassion. That has to be a rare combination."

"Like you said I am a 'remorseless criminal', but I'm not a violent one. There is a big difference between not feeling guilt about stealing from the rich and not caring about people getting hurt. I go to great length to make sure no one gets injured during any of my schemes."

"You can hurt people without injuring them." Peter replied before he could stop himself.

"I suppose no crime is truly victimless." Neal admitted quietly.

"I...I'm sorry, I just...I don't understand."

"What don't you understand?"

"I always thought humans turned to crime out of necessity, but even without selling me you had to have made millions off the other items you won that night, and I'm fairly sure that night wasn't your first con. Why keep going when you've made enough to live off of for years?"

"The pieces from Cheng were worth five or six million, but what it's worth and what it sells for are two very different numbers on the black market. Once fenced with all the fees that come along with that including Mozzie's healthy cut I think it ended up being just over a million net."

"Still an impressive pay day."

"That money won't last long." Neal chuckled.

"What happens to it?"

"I don't know, I've made and lost millions over the years. It's never really been about making ends meet, its been about the art and the challenge. The money just seems to spend itself. I have expensive taste." Neal shrugged. "I mean there is like a hundred dollars worth of saffron in that rice."

Peter looked down at his barely touched meal with guilt at learning how ridiculously expensive it was. Neal saw the look and chuckled again. Peter still didn't understand Neal's drive to continue a life of crime outside of society's norm, but he decided against asking further questions. Peter would give anything to fit naturally into society as a whole, but Neal on the other hand seemed to be actively trying to separate himself from it. Before he got to his feet Neal told Peter that he could stay seated. Peter managed to stay down as Neal got up and collected up the plates to take them into the kitchen to save them for later.

Feeling awkward sitting at the table Peter turned his wrist over as he noticed a dark blood stain on his sleeve. He picked at the stain unsure of how it had gotten there. Realizing the stain was older he decided it had probably come from some previous encounter with Cheng. Between normal wear and tear, blood stains, and shirts that had either been torn open by Cheng or cut off by Neal he was quickly running out of things to wear. Walking back over Neal noticed the stain a well.

"Are you still bleeding somewhere?" Neal asked concerned.

"No." Peter shook his head. "It's an old stain."

"We need to get you some new clothes. As soon as you're feeling up to it I'll bring you to my tailor and get you measured."

"I already know my measurements. They take them at the Market."

"Maybe you knew them two years ago." Neal said as he looked Peter over. "However, I'm guessing that was a good twenty pounds ago. My guy is really good, you'll love him."

"I can't just go into a human tailor, Neal." Peter pointed out.

"Of course you can. Trust me, all it takes for such favors is money."

"I'm starting to see why you're not a 'one last score' kind of thief."

"The 'one last score' is a dangerous dream to chase." Neal smiled.

"Any con with Cheng is a dangerous game."

"You let me worry about that."

Peter took a breath to argue further, but stopped himself. He doubted that Neal could be talked out of anything once he set his mind to it. With his own future heavily dependent on Neal's all he could really do was pray that the con man was as good as he clearly thought he was. Neal looked around the apartment looking restless.

"Neal?"

"I think we should go outside," Neal announced "get some fresh air."

Peter's pulse instantly pounded in his ears at the prospect of going out in public. He glanced nervously over at the front door. Although his shoulders were better than they had been in days the cuts still throbbed painfully and robbed him of most of his energy. He couldn't imagine going out on the streets and having to keep all of his training in mind to keep from being outright harassed by passerbyers.

"I...I don't know if I..."

"Relax, Peter, I just meant stepping out on the balcony." Neal clarified. "I wouldn't make you go out into the city in your condition."

"Thank you." Peter said truly relieved.

"But are you up for a bit of sunshine?"

Peter nodded and got to his feet. Neal opened the large doors that lead out onto the patio and stepped outside. Peter joined him, automatically glancing up at the partly cloudy sky as he stepped out of the apartment. Neal lead Peter over towards the stone rail and they both leaned against it facing out towards the vista of the city. Closing his eyes Peter tilted his head back slightly and enjoyed the warmth sun on his face. The wispy clouds cleared away and the sun intensified and a genuine smile touched Peter's lips.

There had been a time in his life when being outside wasn't so enjoyable, in fact he had found it terrifying to have so much open space above him after a lifetime spent indoors. Before he had met Elizabeth he had only been outside a handful of times for very short periods of time. Since it had only been when he was being brought to a new Master he had never really looked up during those times, too afraid to make a bad impression before even entering his new home. It had taken her encouragement and amazing patience to help him over come the agoraphobia that he'd never even known he'd had. It hadn't taken long with her before he came to love being out under the blue of the sky. In a lot of ways he had never realized just how sheltered his life had been before she opened up a whole new world to him.

The clouds passed back over the sun and Peter opened his eyes again. He looked out over the city and instantly found himself staring at a distinct skyscraper in the distance. The graceful glass and steel building with curved gold highlights glittered in the mid afternoon sun putting the the others around it to shame. The jagged skyline of Midtown Manhattan had dozens of structures reaching for the sky, but none of them could match the iconic architecture of the Market. Elizabeth had summed up his own feelings about the structure one cold winter day when they had risked a trip out on the Brooklyn Promenade at sunset together.

'I hate that people think it's beautiful.'

Peter had rarely heard such pure venom in Elizabeth's voice. Unable to enjoy the spectacular colors that mother nature had painted behind the city as the sun set she had sought comfort in his embrace as she turned her back on the city. Peter had always felt that if the Market wasn't so stunning on the outside that people might look closer at what was happening on the inside. As it was the Market was a source of pride for the city as it etched a distinctive outline across the skyline making the city instantly recognizable.

Peter was pulled away from his thoughts as Neal sighed heavily. Looking over Peter saw that Neal's attention was focused towards the Market as well. A dark expression had fallen across Neal's usual bright face as he continued to stare at the skyscraper that Peter had called home for the first eighteen years of his life and what now represented his greatest fear.

"Neal?"

"I'm sorry." Neal said quietly.

"Sorry? For what?"

"That I used to think that building was beautiful."


	34. Chapter 34

Chapter Thirty-four

"I've been hustled." Neal chuckled.

"Hustled?"

"Hustled." Neal confirmed as he pointless moved his King out of 'check' knowing that no matter what he did Peter would have him in one more move. "There is no way you just started playing this game."

"Between you and Mozzie this is the fifth match I've played." Peter said as he took Neal's defending Knight. "Checkmate."

"Amazing." Neal chuckled as he knocked over his King to admit defeat.

"You shouldn't have let me watch you play against yourself."

"Oh?"

"It showed me how you think both defensive and offensively."

"You watched me play three games like that, the first time it was near the end before you even knew the rules. You memorized my tactics in that time?"

"It's a pattern, I can memorize almost any pattern or series of numbers up to forty digits with a single viewing, given a chance to study I can more than triple that."

"That really is incredible."

Peter smiled, he'd never really found any pride in his talent since it had always just been expected of him before.

"We have to play the numbers game with Mozzie." Neal chuckled. "That will drive him crazy, he's very proud that he can memories a series of eighteen digits with a single reading. He beats me every time, I can't get past sixteen."

"That is still more than double the average human capacity for number recall."

"You said any pattern?" Neal asked thoughtfully. "What about movement on a keyboard?"

"What do you mean?"

Without explaining further Neal gathered up the chess game and pushed it to the side. He pulled his laptop closer before moving his chair to the end of the table so that Peter was sitting to his right rather than across the table from him. Once again Peter eyed the other laptop, after having the saffron rice for dinner Neal had challenged him to chess. It had seemed as good a way to waste time as any, although Peter was starting to think up an excuse to retreat to his side of the house. On a new mission Neal opened a word document and then reduced the screen brightness until it went completely black. Peter still didn't understand until Neal started typing.

"'Can you read this?'" Peter translated.

"Oh that is cool." Neal beamed. "Try it again."

Peter watched as Neal typed out a longer sentence. This wasn't a trick he'd ever tried before, but he found it came easily. Just like any other pattern he'd ever came across his mind naturally absorbed and interpreted it.

"'It was a bright cold day in April, and the clocks were striking thirteen.'" Peter read aloud, adding the author and title himself. "George Orwell, 1984."

"You were allowed to read that?" Neal asked surprised.

"It's not difficult, with your traditional 'home key' typing style it's easy to read the motions."

"No, I meant the actual book. I would think that 1984 would be the kind of free thinking and rebellious subject matter that the Market would not want Animula reading."

"Very few Animula read recreationally so it's not regulated." Peter explained. "Besides, in the end Winston ends his 'stubborn, self-willed exile' from Big Brother, he gives up his love for Julia, and he embraces the Party."

"He doesn't give up anything," Neal corrected "he's tortured until it's taken from him."

Uncomfortable with the turn in the conversation Peter didn't respond. Since Neal had sounded genuinely surprised that he knew the reference Peter doubted that he had purposefully chosen the line to draw him into a conversation about giving in to torture. Although it wasn't the first time Neal had tried steering the topic towards something that would lead to a discussion of Peter's past. Peter hadn't decided yet if Neal was truly seeking a better understanding of where he was coming from or if he was just naturally curious about anything unknown. Either way it wasn't something he wanted to talk about.

Peter had learned long ago that even trying to give up in the face of torture didn't always work. A month after Miller had first collared him Peter was everything Allens could want in an Animula or at least what he thought he wanted. Desperate to avoid the cruel correction of the collar Peter no longer spoke unless a direct question that required more than a head gesture was asked of him. He kept his eyes down and unfocused to the point that he was starting to have trouble keeping his vision sharp while reading his computer screen. If he was sitting down when any of the staff entered the room he was on his feet in seconds, if he was already standing he dropped to his knees.

The cost of the new behaviors however was a sharp decline in Peter's ability to do the job he'd been purchased to do. Beyond having difficulty concentrating he had become hesitant to take risks with his accounts. Taking the safer roads with investments lead to poorer performance over all. Having lost his appetite had gone a long way towards making him the listless creature that Allens expected as well, but it wasn't something that he could sustain without falling ill for much longer. Peter felt like he could adjust to the collar if he understood the rules of it, but in Allens' haste to 'fix' him he was not only over using the power, but worse yet he was also highly inconsistent with it. Peter was willing to offer Allens and the other Masters just about anything to avoid having Miller return and increase the setting, but to him it seemed that what the humans wanted was constantly changing. Although Miller hadn't been called Peter still found himself being corrected almost daily for one reason or another even after a month of trying to be 'more Animula'.

Never knowing when he was going to over step some unknown boundary was quickly making Peter neurotic. Anthony had tried approaching him at first but seeing how Peter fearfully drew away he had given in and was leaving him alone. Peter wanted nothing more than to have Anthony's support, but he worried about Anthony ended up in a collar himself for showing too much compassion, something he was told was a human trait even though he'd rarely seen it from them.

Kneeling in Allens' office Peter stared vacantly at the white carpet while he listened half heartedly to his Master about a new account. All he wanted to do was get back to his own desk and he had managed to learn that the best way to do that was to act like he was listening without seeming too attentive. Allens was on his feet, pacing back and forth look almost as nervous as Peter was. All in all the collar had not made them better at interacting with one another the way Miller had promised. Allen suddenly stopped mid sentence in front of Peter as he sniffed at the air.

"What is that smell?" Allens asked as he stepped closer. He wrinkled his nose at the scent as he also noted that Peter's throat was red. "Open your shirt."

Swallowing hard Peter reached up with a shaky hand and loosened his tie that was already fairly loose since he couldn't stand wearing it properly tightened any more. Undoing the top buttons worsened the musky scent and revealed that his skin was a bright red radiating out from under his collar. It wasn't the action of the collar that was causing the irritation, Peter was simply too terrified to touch the collar to keep the skin underneath clean and dry. With the stress he was under it had only taken a week for yeast to take hold under the tight slightly elastic band. With the infection exposed Peter started trembling again, fearing he was going to be blamed for not caring for himself properly.

"Peter..."

Mistaking his own name for the collar's passcode Peter cried out sharply, welding his eyes shut he tensed every muscle in preparation of the lashing pain. He was on such high alert that it hadn't taken more than hearing the first letter to flood his system with adrenaline. The collar didn't go off, but it almost didn't matter at this point the anticipation of the correction was nearly as agonizing as the actual event. Realizing that Allens had only called his name Peter tried to relax only to tense up again as he realized that his lap had suddenly became wet and warm.

"Did you just..." Allens trailed off his question with a look of horror.

More humiliated then he'd ever been at auction Peter bowed his head. Unable to control his shaking Peter stayed on his knees as he waited to see what Allens reaction to the accident would be. He wouldn't be surprised to actually hear the passcode this time but he found he didn't care. At his lowest right now he doubted that pain could make the moment any worse. Turning an ashen color Allens stepped back until he bumped into his desk. The collar usually stole Peter's ability to vocalize any pain. He had thought that the results of the collar use were obvious enough even if he was silent. However Allens looked like he had just realized that for the past month he had been doing far more than just encouraging Peter's supposed instinct to kneel. He stared at Peter for what felt like an eternity before he turned and picked up his phone, slamming a number into it.

"Miller! I have asked you time and time again and each time you swore to me that I wasn't torturing him!" Allens snarled angrily. "Stop giving me that bullshit about Animula not feeling pain. He's so terrified of me that he just pissed on my carpet!"

Peter looked up in surprise at hearing the anger in Allens' voice as he barked at the Market handler. As wrong as it sounded even to himself it did make him feel better to hear that Allens finally understood now how much he was hurting him. Peter briefly even hoped that Allens would remove the collar and give him a second chance, but it quickly became apparent that Allens wanted Miller to come and collect him right this instant. Hanging up the phone Allens sat down at his desk and raked his hands through his thinning hair compulsively. Peter tried to keep quiet, but with very little to lose he eventually decided to break the heavy silence despite the possible consequences.

"Master Allens..." Peter said quietly "please don't send me back to the Market."

"I have to." Allens replied in a hoarse whisper. "I can't keep you, not after this."

"It was an accident, I'm sorry."

"It's not that."

"Then what did I do wrong?"

"It's not what you did wrong, Peter, it's what I've done wrong."

"If...if you give me a second chance, I'll give you one."

"I'm sorry, Peter, I'm going to have a hard enough time looking at myself in a mirror, let alone..." Allens didn't finish his thought as he looked down and started to pointlessly rearrange the stuff on his desk. "Besides, you'll do better with a Master who knows how to better deal with...well...with you."

There had been no where productive to take the conversation from there so Peter hadn't even tried. He had simply asked for permission to clean up and pack before they came to collect him which Allens gladly gave if for no other reason than to get him out of his sight. Peter was siting in the corner of his room by the floor to ceiling window with his knees pulled up to his chest when Miller arrived to escort him back. He didn't say anything, instead he surprised Peter by simply holding his hand out for him to take. Despite the fact that Miller and his collar had caused him nothing but misery Peter had still appreciated the gesture during the difficult transition back to the Market.

Miller never apologized for the collar but he did apologize for leaving him with Allens and blamed him for misusing the technology. He took personal responsibility for Peter's care during his return to the Market and rather than the mandatory solitary Miller arranged to have him placed in one of the rooms that had a view that were usually reserved for Animula that had not started their careers. Miller had removed the collar and tended to the infection until it healed, making note that the material would have to be adjusted to keep the problem from occurring in the future. Even once Peter was physically healthy again he made time to visit several times a week. Although Peter had very little to say to him he enjoyed the company, it was better to be around someone he feared than to be left completely alone.

As much as Peter hated the idea he had to admit that in a way the collar had done its job. It hadn't helped him keep his home with Allens, but it he did manage to keep his next Master for close to four years with far less trouble. The new Master had been demanding, but Peter had just been grateful that the new owner hadn't found any need to collar him. He might had stayed longer if the economy hadn't taken a sudden turn for the worse hurting the company as a whole financially. When a vulture with a bad kidney came to the now struggling company looking for a match he had offered them top dollar for him if no questions were asked, and none were.

"Peter?" Neal asked pulling Peter away from his thoughts. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." Peter replied automatically.

"Are you back?"

"What?"

"You just zoned out there for a good five minutes."

"Sorry."

"Don't be, it was my fault. I shouldn't have mentioned Winston. I didn't even realize how much what I was saying pertained to you until after I said it."

"It's okay."

"I don't often think before I talk...or act for that matter. I need to work on that." Neal smiled apologetically. "Seriously though, I wasn't fishing for you tell me about your past, I was just talking about the book. I'll try to be more careful in the future."

Almost instantly failing at being careful Neal reached over and put his hand on Peter's arm to emphasize his desire to offer support. Neal had already noted before that he shouldn't touch without asking, but Peter didn't mind the slip. He knew Neal couldn't change his basic outgoing and carefree nature, which seemed to included a need for casual physical contact. With his hand still on Peter's arm Neal suddenly smiled brightly at him with an expectant look. Peter furrowed his brow, uncertain as to why Neal looked so excited. It took Peter a moment, but he slowly came to realize what Neal had noticed instantly.

"I didn't pull away..."

"You didn't even flinch."


	35. Chapter 35

Chapter Thirty-five

Peter sat at the small table in his apartment staring at the laptop that Neal had given him or rather that Mozzie had brought for him. He had gone through the operating system several times looking for spyware but he hadn't found anything suspicious. Peter had come to trust Neal to respect his privacy, but he wouldn't put it past Mozzie to pry. He had known from the start that Cheng monitored his every key stroke on his computer so he had never dared stray from his work, having been terrified of the consequences. Still unsure that he wouldn't get caught now Peter hesitated to open the internet.

The longer he sat contemplating the closed laptop the more Peter realized that it wasn't a fear of being caught that was keeping him from acting, it was the consequences of what he might find if he did. With Cheng he'd never even had the chance to learn anything about Elizabeth's side of the story once they'd been separated. Now that he had the opportunity sitting in front of him he wasn't sure he had the courage to take it. As much as he wanted her to move past him he wasn't sure his heart could take learning that she had, on the other hand it certainly wasn't going to make him happy to know she was miserable and stuck in the past.

However his real greatest fear was that she had sought revenge against Renner. Even if she hadn't already been facing embezzlement charges of her own there would have been no way for her to win against him in any kind of lawsuit. In the eyes of the law Renner hadn't done anything wrong, since Peter was working under a lease contract with the company he had to wear a collar in the building and Renner had the right to set the passcode to whatever he wanted. There would have been no real consequences for him having nearly torturing him to death with the powerful collar.

At the most Elizabeth could have tried to file for destruction of property, but even that would be a pointless suit and would have done more harm than good for her. Renner's lawyers wouldn't hesitate to drag her through the mud. Any legal proceedings against Renner on property damage would have only ended up focusing on Elizabeth's personal relationship with said property. No one would rule in favor of someone insane enough to fall in love an Animula. As it was Peter just hoped that the company had kept the embezzling as quiet as possible to keep her from becoming tabloid news. Luckily that would have reflected badly on them as well so he fairly confident that at least she hadn't become a household name for her infamous affair.

When Peter had first starting going home with Elizabeth on the weekends he was terrified that the rest of the office was going to quickly start to at least gossip if not outright accuse her of having an inappropriate relationship with one of the 'corporate resources'. However it never happened, no one at the office even batted an eye when she stepped forward to purchase him outright. It was just assumed that she was making a career move considering how well Peter had done to help her accounts. The idea that she had a deep emotional connection with him was so out of the realm of social reality that it had even taken Renner years to figure out.

Becoming increasingly anxious thinking about Elizabeth Peter got to his feet and started pacing around. Feeling closed in he went over to the door and opened it slightly. It helped somewhat to reassure himself that the door wasn't locked, but it didn't real solve the greater issue and his stomach still twisted in a painful knot. The Market had done such a thorough job of instilling the fear of forced isolation and had used it against him so many times in his life that his reaction to anything even similar had become automatic. He didn't know if all Animula were effected by it as much as he was, but he doubted that any of them made it out of the Market without at least a strong distaste for being alone in closed in spaces.

There had been several occasions when Elizabeth had been forced by travel to leave him behind for several days at a time, but it had been different somehow. He wasn't sure if it had been having the whole house to roam, or even just the simple fact that Satchmo had been there to keep him company that made her absence tolerable. Of course Elizabeth had never used the isolation as a punishment, but then again neither was Neal. Even the fact that he mentally wanted some time alone at the moment wasn't changing the fact that it was making him physically uncomfortable right now.

"What is wrong with me?" Peter snarled at himself. "It has never been this bad, not under conditions like this anyway."

In any company he'd ever been owned by and with the few private owners he'd had Peter had always had his own room and a single evening alone had never been an issue. He'd spent most of his time alone in Cheng's house, although in that case he had quickly learned that it was far less pleasant to be in Cheng's company since at any moment any encounter could turn violent. His basic desire to be around others conflicting with his growing fear of Cheng had been a difficult paradox for him at first, but eventually he had learned to prefer to be alone as Cheng's abusive treatment reconditioned him. Just a few weeks with Neal seemed to have reversed that conditioning to the point where now he struggled to be alone for even a few hours.

Continuing to pace around his apartment Peter was sharply reminded of one time when Elizabeth had to leave him that he'd been highly anxious. Unlike before when she had to leave the house that particular time he'd been the one forced to leave. Having been snuck into a hotel room Peter had spent the entire day trying not to panic. He wasn't any more welcome in the hotel than he was in a restaurant and if he'd been discovered the Market would have instantly been called. He wasn't even sure if he'd be returned to Elizabeth considering she had illegally left him in the room alone.

Nightfall hadn't helped his mood as people started returning to the hotel to bed down for the night. Every time someone laughed in the hallway or even walked by quietly Peter's heart would race. The door was locked from the inside and there was a do not disturb card on the outside of the door handle but that felt like poor defense against an intruder. When someone slipped a key card into the lock Peter instinctively looked for a place to hide even though he knew it was most likely Elizabeth.

Peter released the breath he hadn't even realized he'd been holding when Elizabeth stepped through the door, quickly closing it behind her. She looked stressed but when she looked up at Peter her expression brightened as she smiled at him. Peter came forward to meet her half way to greet her. Elizabeth threw her arms around his waist and hugged him tightly. It had only been about fourteen hours since he'd seen her last but he returned the embrace as though it had been years.

"Sorry I'm late." Elizabeth said with her head still resting against his chest.

"Don't worry about it, I wasn't even expecting to see you. You didn't have to come here tonight."

"I hate sleeping alone."

"Me too." Peter hugged her tighter.

Unwilling to pull away Elizabeth kept her arms around Peter and leaned against him. Having her back had removed his own anxiety, but it didn't take long for him to feel that Elizabeth was tense. He sighed quietly as he reached up and smoothed out her hair before he took a step back so that they could look at one another. Elizabeth didn't look up at him at first and when she finally did he could see the rims of her eyes were red.

"I take it your parents' visit isn't going well?" Peter asked gently.

"I don't even know how to talk to them anymore," Elizabeth admitted sadly. "They haven't confronted me, but I feel like they know I'm keeping a huge secret from them."

"I'm sorry."

"You have nothing to apologize for. I wish you could meet them. My mother worries that I'm lonely and it's so hard not being able to tell her that I've never been more loved. I hate having to hide you away like this."

"It's okay, I don't blame you."

"I want to believe that they'd accept us, but my father…" Elizabeth trailed off, her father had never referred to an Animula as anything other than an abomination. "Maybe I should just tell them, take the consequences."

"Elizabeth, no." Peter said firmly. "I know it's hard to keep us a secret from them, but I don't want you to lose your family over me. I have isolated you enough as it is."

"I don't feel isolated because of you Peter."

"You've had to push away all your friends in fear of being reported to the Market. No one comes the house, and you've put off having your parents visit for over a year. You don't get any social interaction other than me. I even can't take you out to the park without risking everything we have. You are practically a prisoner in your own house."

"That's not your fault." Elizabeth assured. "I knew exactly what I was getting into with you, and I wouldn't give you up for the world."

"I just wish I could provide you with a normal life."

"I don't want a normal life, Peter, I want you."

Peter had appreciated her words, mostly because he knew she meant them. He had often felt selfish for loving her, knowing the risk for it ending badly, as it eventually had. Despite the guilt he could never find it in himself to push her away. With his thoughts back in the present Peter suddenly realized why his anxiety of being alone had gotten so much worse with Neal. Life with Cheng had never presented him with even the slightest chance of seeing Elizabeth again. Neal on the other hand had already shown himself to be a hopeless romantic.

"Unless he's just conning me…using a carrot instead of stick is still a means of control." Peter muttered bitterly.

Peter thought about his words and had to admit that he was being unfair to Neal. If Neal had been acting strictly selfishly and was just playing him then he was not only doing an extraordinary good job of it but he was also going to an obscene amount of trouble to trick him. If money was all Neal cared about he could have just sold him, if obedience was what he was after he would have tried to force a collar around his throat. It was far more likely that Neal truly meant what he said about not wanting to be his Master, and Peter doubted that he would keep him from Elizabeth if he knew about her.

"Stop it," Peter shook head to clear it "don't even think about it. You still can't offer her a real life…not that she ever cared about that before."

Becoming increasingly agitated Peter found his heart pounding painfully. He was torn between his overwhelming desire to be with Elizabeth and his instinctive drive to protect her from becoming a pariah again, not to mention the additional heartbreak if they were separated again. However now that he'd had the thought of seeing her again he couldn't let it go. He wouldn't even think of going near her again for his own sake, if she could live without him then he felt that would be best. Peter didn't really know what the human capacity was to recover from emotional pain, he hadn't proved to be very good at himself. For all he knew there was a chance that Elizabeth had grown to hate him for everything he put her through, or worse yet had simply forgotten him.

"There's only one way to find out…"

Peter turned and looked to the laptop that was innocently sitting on the table. Swallowing hard against a dry throat Peter walked back over to it and sat down. Opening the computer it still took him several minutes to actually open a browser. Finding himself a little dizzy Peter reached out with shaky hands and typed in a url. He and Elizabeth always knew that there was a very real danger that one day they'd be forcibly separated and Elizabeth had insisted that they have a backup plan to contact one another again. Peter had suggested opening free e-mail accounts for them both. It wasn't a perfect solution but it was low risk. He hadn't been able to connect to it with the software on the computer Cheng which had tight controls on both monitoring and what sites he could even access. At first it had driven him towards madness to not be able to at least let her know he was alive, but over time he had convinced himself that it was best if she didn't know.

Peter still wasn't a hundred percent sure that Neal didn't have a way of looking at his screen, but even if he did Elizabeth's real name wasn't on the account. Peter entered his user name and password before needing a moment to settle the storm in his stomach. He wasn't sure what he would find, he wasn't even sure what he wanted to find. Before he could talk himself out of it Peter struck the enter key.

The screen that came up seconds later literally stole Peter's breath. There were close to eight hundred messages sitting unread in his inbox from Elizabeth. It only took a quick glance to see that for the past two years she had faithfully written to him at least once a day. It broke his heart to see her daily calls out to him unanswered, but at the same time the fact that she never gave up him reminded him of exactly why he loved her so much in the first place. Overwhelmed by the sudden flood of emotions tears traced down his face even though a warm smile touched his lips. The last message had been sent to him earlier that evening. Whereas most of the message subject lines simply held the date this one held a message that Peter read aloud since it mimicked his own feelings so well.

"'I miss you'."


	36. Chapter 36

Chapter Thirty-six

Just after Peter left for the night Neal stretched out on the couch and stared out the patio doors at the city lights. He was exhausted despite having mostly just lounged around the apartment with Peter all day. Thinking about it he realized that he'd barely stepped out of his apartment since Peter moved in. At first he didn't trust leaving Peter alone, now he mostly felt guilty for leaving him behind. Peter was still too weak to be walking around the city, but he was getting better fast and eventually they were going to have to deal with the dynamics of being out in public together. Treating Peter as a friend or even just as an equal would be out of the question with others around, eventually it would lead to someone questioning Neal's ownership and when it proved to be forged things wouldn't end well for either of them.

"It will be a risk every time we step outside," Neal sighed "but the same time I can't imagine he's going to be happy locked up in here for the rest of his life."

Until very recently it hadn't really looked like the 'rest of Peter's life' was going to be a long enough time frame for him to get bored or feel trapped. Neal wasn't used to thinking very far ahead in his own life, and he certainly wasn't used to having to worry about anyone's needs outside his own. Even with Kate she had always been so independent that he had always just felt lucky that she chose to spend some of her time with him. She had never really needed him, she hadn't even asked for help on the con that had eventually gotten her killed.

"I still haven't decided if I could have saved you…or if we'd both be dead."

Agitated from thinking about Kate Neal got up off the couch and went into the kitchen to get a glass of wine. Leaning his back against the counter Neal sipped at the strong Chateau Latour 98. Looking at the table his eyes fell on his laptop. It hadn't escaped Neal's notice that Peter had kept glancing at the computer that Mozzie had brought for him all night. He had looked like a well beaten dog that was tempted to steal a steak off the table but couldn't quite find the courage to act. Neal suspected that Peter had stayed on this side of the house until his usual hour just to keep from looking like he was too eager to escape to the privacy of his own room with the device. Even when he had gone to leave he had nervously asked permission one last time before taking it.

Wine in hand Neal walked up to his own computer and flipped it open. Mozzie had hid the software that connected his screen to Peter's in several layers of folders, the last one being password protected before getting to the program itself that was also password protected. Neal got to the point where he was looking at the icon that would run the program, which looked like an ordinary document and not an executable program. Neal stared at the icon for a while before closing all of the tabs that it had taken to get there before and the laptop itself.

"You want him to trust you, you have to trust him first." Neal reminded himself. "Whoever has the most power has to take the first step."

Over the years Neal had had plenty of times in his life that he'd had to put his mostly blind faith in someone he didn't know as well as he should. In just about every case if he was the one who was at a disadvantage at the start of the partnership and he took the first chance at trust he ended up getting burned in the end. It only ever really worked out to put his trust in someone who needed him more than he needed them. The real trick was figuring out if you held more cards when no one was showing their hand until it was time to put it on the table.

Keller had been his most prime example of him underestimating his leverage in a business venture. Keller had done such a good job at pretending to have a broken wing when they'd first met that Neal hadn't even realized that he was dealing with a killer until it was too late. Neal still wasn't exactly sure why Keller hadn't killed him too after he'd shot the third man in their group. Neal's best guess was that Keller thought more than a step ahead and had figured that Neal could still be useful in the future.

Neal still worried about Keller from time to time. He didn't know where he was was these days, but now and then Neal would think he saw him in a crowd or a crime would occur in the city that held Keller's hallmarks. With Keller it had been practically impossible to tell who held more power, with Peter it was absolutely black and white. The highest card he had to play was turning Neal into the FBI, which would only serve to instantaneously land him back at the Market.

"If he didn't hand Cheng over to the authorities he's certainly not plotting against me."

Confident that Peter wasn't using the laptop against him Neal resolved not to breach his privacy to see what it was Peter was doing. Going back to the kitchen to get a refill on his wine Neal was distracted by his phone ringing. Pulling it out of his pocket he furrowed his brow as he recognized the number.

"How did you get this number?" Neal demanded rather than greeted.

'I used your phone to call mine while you were passed out on the floor.' Taylor replied calmly. 'If you really want to keep your number a secret you should password protect your phone.'

"I suppose I should be grateful that you called rather than just arrived on my doorstep and chloroformed me."

'Chloroform isn't nearly as effective as the movies would have you believe.' Taylor chuckled.

"What do you want?" Neal rolled his eyes.

'I want to know how Peter's doing.'

"He's fine, the wounds are finally starting to close." Neal reported. "He still spikes a fever now and then but it always breaks quickly and he doesn't become delirious like he did before."

'Good, the second antibiotic must be doing the trick. How's his emotional state?'

"Better now that you're not here." Neal snarled. "He barely talked to me for three days after your little stunt."

'Are you two talking now?'

"That honestly isn't any of your business." Neal said coldly. "I will call you if I need anything, but don't wait by the phone."

'You're angry with me.' Taylor noted pointlessly.

"That comes as a surprise?"

'Not really, but this is for something more than just drugging you, or even for tricking Peter into talking to me. Did Peter tell you how he first met me?'

"He thinks you saved his life, but you just pulled him from the waters long enough for him to catch his breath before you tossed him back into stormy seas to drown."

'I shouldn't have left him at the Market to be resold. I was young, I didn't know any better. The Market didn't just brainwash Peter into thinking Animula aren't worthy of mercy, they trained me to believe Animula were little more than breathing calculators. I had to break a mindset that had been reinforced by years of working with Animula that were everything my teachers told me they'd be.'

"You do realize you're just pissing me off more, right?" Neal snarled. "Don't you dare equate your training at the Market to what they did to Peter."

'I just want you to realize that not everyone has had the privilege of having Peter be the first Animula they've met.' Taylor said calmly. 'Besides, remind me how you treated him at first? As I recall you almost killed him by forcing him around the city to further your own interests without taking any real amount of time to learn anything about your new responsibility as a Master or even making sure he got the simplest of health checks after he'd been handed over to you by a known criminal.'

"I…"

'Did it really never occur to you that Cheng wanted to get rid of Peter for a reason? You admit to being black out drunk…you didn't find it the least bit suspicious that Cheng just handed over your 'winnings' anyway?'

"You're right." Neal sighed in defeat. "I should have known something was wrong from the start."

'We all make mistakes, the important thing here is that we both learned from them.'

"I just wish Peter didn't have to suffer for the mistakes made by the humans around him." Neal sighed, losing some of his previous anger.

'The worst mistakes are the ones that others end up paying for.' Taylor agreed sadly. 'I'm still glad Peter found yo…'

Neal's attention was yanked away from the conversation when he heard Peter's door open and shut. The door into Neal's apartment was shut for the night, but before he could go over to open it for Peter he heard the distinct sound of footsteps going down the stairs.

'Neal?' Taylor asked concerned.

"I have to go."

Hanging up on the vet Neal rushed to the door. Beyond not understanding why Peter would leave he wasn't even sure if Peter was healthy enough to make it to the bottom of the stairs without collapsing. Despite turning the corner as far as healing went he still fatigued easily and often still got dizzy just with standing. Getting to the bottom of the stairs Neal found that Peter had not only made it down the stairs, but was already outside.

Peter had left the large front door open about a foot and Neal could see that Peter hadn't made it much further than the landing of the front steps. Not wanting Peter to feel like he was being chased Neal stayed just inside the door way and watched to see what he would do. If Peter had somewhere to go Neal had no issue with letting him leave, but he would rather help Peter get there. Even at night there was a high risk of him being spotted by someone. Any average citizen would call 911 if they saw an Animula roaming the streets unaccompanied at this hour.

If Peter had a destination in mind he wasn't in a hurry to try to get there. Sitting down on the step of the landing he raked his hands through his hair a few times. His shoulders were heaving heavily as he panted for breath. Listening to him Neal got the impression that his labored breath was more the sound one made when trying to recover from crying rather than from over exertion. Eventually Peter bowed his head with a sorrowful sigh. Unsure of what to do Neal just stood awkwardly in the shadows of the door way. Neal stepped back when Peter shifted his weight, not wanting to get caught spying on him.

"I know you're there, Neal."

"There's no sneaking up on you, is there?"

"Not really." Peter replied quietly.

Neal felt guilty for having intruding on the private moment, however now that he had been caught he stepped outside. He walked down the four steps onto the short landing, but kept some distance between them, still not sure if he was really welcome to join Peter or not. Peter didn't look back at him he just shifted his weight uncomfortably again.

"…want to talk about it?" Neal asked gently.

"I wasn't trying to run away."

"I didn't think that you were." Neal lied.

"I just needed some fresh air." Peter continued to explain himself.

"Do you want to be alone?"

"No." Peter answered quickly, still not looking up at Neal. "I mean…you don't have to go if you don't want to, but it's late so if you want to go to bed…not that I'm trying to tell you what to do…"

Neal sighed sadly at Peter's obvious agitation as he rambled. Sitting on the step with his elbows rested on his knees Peter started rocking back and forth slightly as he rubbed compulsively at his sleeve over his tattoos. Neal had told Taylor that Peter was doing better emotionally and at the time he'd believed it, but watching him now Peter looked like he was nearing psychosis. Neal hated seeing him like this, and started to wonder if he had what it took to even begin to help him.

Hoping he was doing the right thing Neal sat down next to Peter close enough so that their shoulders touched. Peter had responded well to being given distance before, but Neal sensed that his desire to be left alone had chanced recently. Neal was pleased to see that the contact had the desired effect as Peter stopped his pointless rocking. Peter still hadn't looked at him, but after a moment he did stop rubbing at his arm. Although he still seemed tense across the shoulders he didn't appear to be near a nervous break down anymore. Neal didn't know if he had actually made Peter feel better of if he was just hiding his symptoms because there was a human around now.

Deciding that every other time he'd opened his mouth he'd said something that upset Peter further Neal just kept Peter company and waited for him to speak first. After a few minutes Peter truly seemed to calm as he took a deep breath and dropped his shoulders slightly. Neal smiled when Peter briefly leaned harder into his shoulder in a silent show of appreciation for the support. It was the first time that Peter had been the one to initiate more contact, even if it was just a quick change in pressure. Neal had always used words, and mostly lies, to try and affect those around him, but he found it even more rewarding to be able to cause a positive change without saying anything.

Neal watched Peter as he stared down at the marble of stairs beneath his bare feet with a vacant expression. Neal wanted to ask him what had driven him to brave the stairs and expose himself to a possible conflict with someone out for a late night walk, but he didn't want to force Peter into a conversation he wasn't ready or willing to have. When Peter finally turned to look at Neal the golden rings in his eyes caught the harsh street light causing a glowing reflection like a cat's eyes at night. Neal couldn't hide his surprised reaction to the eerie effect as he jolted slightly.

"Sorry." Peter broke the comfortable silence as he quickly turned away and closed his eyes.

"It's okay, I just didn't know your eyes caught the light like that at night."

"The light has to be just right. I'm sorry, I know it's disconcerting."

"Peter, stop, you never have to apologize just for looking at me."

Peter bowed his head slightly, his eyes still closed. Neal didn't understand what he had said wrong this time.

"Peter?"

"Nothing?"

"Really?" Neal asked skeptically.

"...the first time I was collared was because I looked my Master in the eyes one too many times."

"What? Making eye contact is a collarable offense?" Neal asked in disgust.

"It was a little more complicated than that, but not by much. I tried everything to make him happy, nothing worked. He tortured me for a month before giving up on me."

Neal's blood ran cold at hearing a brief piece of Peter's past. Just mentioning the collar was causing Peter to pant for breath. Considering how hard Peter had tried to do everything Neal had asked of him at first he couldn't imagine how accommodating Peter had striven to be when he was younger. Neal's anger at Peter's former Master suddenly gave him an idea.

"Who was it?" Neal asked.

"What?"

"This Master, who was he? We should invite him to the party, take him down a notch or two with the others."

"Neal that was almost thirty years ago. Allens wasn't young back then, he's probably dead by now."

"Oh, well then in that case: good riddance."

Peter gave Neal a questioning look causing his eyes to flash again.

"What?" Neal smiled. "Allens was scum, the world is better without him. The world would probably be a better place without *any* of your former Masters."

Neal had thought the comment would elicit a smile from Peter, but instead he instantly turned away. It was difficult to tell in the stark shadows caused by the street light but Neal could have sworn Peter's eyes had brightened with tears in the split second before he'd hidden them. Peter reached up and rubbed the back of his hand against his face as though just scratching at an itch. Avoiding eye contact again he seemed to have become lost in his own thoughts again.

Neal suddenly remembered one Master or rather a Mistress that Peter had spoken well of, and it wasn't until this moment that Neal even realized that Peter had referred to her by her first name when Neal had basically forced him to tell him who the code underlined by the scar belonged to. During his first delusional attack Peter had mentioned loving someone, Neal had dismissed it at the time, having been far more concerned with the fact that Peter was near death. Now he was starting to think that Peter hadn't had a traditional relationship with his former Mistress.

"Peter…"

"This con you're planning," Peter interrupted as he focused back on Neal with no signs of his brief brush with tears "do you really think it will work?"

"It's a masterpiece, don't worry about it. You've already done more than enough, I'm not going to ask you to…"

"I want in."

"In?" Neal repeated surprised. "Really? I mean, not that I'm complaining, but can I ask why?"

"If you're serious about not being my Master..."

"I am."

"Then I need to be able to support myself some way. You probably don't keep your money long enough or in any kind of legal workable form that I could earn you much through investment management."

"I don't really do 'investments'." Neal chuckled. "I like to keep my assets more liquid."

"I still don't approve of what you're doing, but…" Peter trailed off, not sure how to finish the thought.

"Peter, everyone on the guest list are criminals in their own right. Were just stealing from each other, we do it all the time. It's like a game, one I plan to win."

"One that is likely to get one or both of us killed if you don't." Peter added.

"All part of the thrill." Neal chuckled. "Have you ever had money of your own?"

"No." Peter replied heavily.

"When we pull this off you will have more of it than you'll know what to do with, literally."

The way Peter narrowed his eyes thoughtfully gave Neal the impression that maybe Peter already knew exactly what he would do with that kind of money. Neal's first thought was that Peter would try and use the money to some how buy himself from him, a gesture that he might have to accept if it would help Peter feel free.

"I only have one concern." Neal said. "If you really want to help you're going to have to play the part of Animula and I'm going to have to play Master again."

"I don't have to play the part, I am Animula. You on the other hand are going to have to get better at playing Master in public or we are both going to be in serious trouble."

"I just want to make sure that you understand, and that you feel you can handle being treated like a slave again. I don't want you growing to resent me for anything said or done in public."

"I won't. I promise."

"Okay, if you're sure this is what you want then you're in, 50/50…well percentages get confusing with Mozzie in as well, but there will be plenty for everyone. Partners then?"

Neal smiled and held out his hand for Peter to shake. It made Neal a little nervous that Peter hesitated to seal the deal with a simple hand shake, but then he realized that Peter just wanted to make sure no one was watching the unusual transaction. Assured that they still had the scene to themselves Peter made a point of making eye contact before firmly shaking Neal's hand. Neal had no problem with the eye contact, in fact he felt it was an encouraging sign. Peter had a spark of determination in his golden eyes that Neal hadn't seen in him since Peter had been leaned over him trying to murder him.

"Cheng and the others are never going to see this coming." Neal smiled, excited to have Peter on board even if he didn't fully know his motivations. "This is going to work."

"I…I do have a request." Peter said cautiously.

"Already?" Neal teased. "What is it?"

"I want to add someone to the guest list."

"Of course. Who do you have in mind?"

"Joseph Renner."


	37. Chapter 37

Chapter thirty-seven

Standing at the large glass patio doors of Neal's apartment Peter watched the sky flash with light as a powerful summer storm rolled across the city. The rain hadn't started in earnest yet so Peter still had a great view of the jagged purple and white streaks that raced across the darkened sky as they struck at the tops of the buildings that dared to try and scrape the sky. Despite the lightning storm that had accompanied his first painful taste of being collared nothing was further from his mind right now. The storm had added to his anxiety that day, but this afternoon with each flash his mood only improved. Peter smiled as a fork of lightning was joined almost instantly with a powerful rumble of thunder.

Although the marks across his shoulders were still a ways off from turning to scars Peter was feeling stronger than he had in more time than he cared to think about. After his dangerous venture out onto the steps last night Peter had needed to lean heavily on Neal to get back up them again, but the journey hadn't killed him and he'd managed to sleep well despite the anxiety that had originally driven him from the safety of his apartment. He had read about two dozen of Elizabeth's emails to him before an onslaught of emotions mixed with a powerful panic attack had forced him out onto the steps. It was greater than he could have ever imagined to hear from her again, but at the same time it made the loss of the last two years that much more painful. In the morning he'd gone straight back to his computer to make sure that he hadn't just dreamed the entire events of the previous evening.

The laptop had proven to him that it hadn't just been a wishful delusion and he spent an hour reading through more of the heartfelt messages. In each of the digital letters to him Elizabeth always let it be known that she missed him terribly, but at the same time she didn't dwell on the negative. She didn't complain about life being unfair, she didn't mention anything that she had lost other than him, nor did she waste time blaming him or herself for what happened. Instead she wrote him about the bright points of her day, even if it was as simple as seeing the same kind of wild flower that he had once brought home to her growing from a crack in the concrete. If she didn't have anything specific to report from her day she recounted one of their days together allowing Peter to see the event from her perspective.

Most of Elizabeth's notes were time stamped in the evening. However this morning when he woke up there was a new one from just past seven am. Seeing the brand new message made his heart race just as fast as when he'd first seen the eight hundred that had collected over the years. It pained him not to reply, but he knew that what he was doing with Neal was extraordinarily risky. He didn't want to force himself back into her life only to be torn away from her again. Peter needed to make sure that he at least had a decent chance of being able to create a stable life for them both before he even thought about and the only thing that could really offer that was the large sum of money that Neal was confident they would make with his scheme.

Still unsure if Neal would make good on his promises to share even if the con worked Peter didn't feel like he was in any position to contact Elizabeth. He felt it would be far crueler to make her re-experience her grief once more if something should go wrong with Neal. So far he hadn't read anything where she outright stated that she thought he was dead, but her wording often gave him the impression that she had made peace with the idea that he was. Peter discovered that he found a great deal of comfort in the idea that she believed that Renner had murdered him. He preferred the thought that she imagined him having been freed from pain by death instead of her spending the past two years worrying about him struggling under the hand of cruel Master the way he had.

Peter had hesitated to open today's new note since it had been titled 'Stormy Weather' and had read through a handful of the others first. He had feared that she was having a more difficult time than usual today. However the note had been about the actual weather front that was going to be moving in during the afternoon. Once she had seen how fascinated he was with the weather they had always put work aside at the office during any good storm to enjoy the show together. A majority of Elizabeth's letter this morning had been about a time back before she had taken ownership of him when she had stayed late at work with him specifically because of the weather.

With everyone else having gone home for the day they didn't have to worry about anyone catching them together. They had watched the storm for an hour or so before becoming distracted by one another. It hadn't been their first romantic encounter since he had been going home with her on the weekends, but it had been one of the most memorable. Unable to just leave him behind afterwards they had both ended up sleeping in her office for the night. With an approaching storm in the near forecast Elizabeth couldn't help but reminisce on his love of lightning and how she'd come to look forward to 'bad' weather as well.

'I'll be watching the storm, wherever you are I know you'll be watching it with me.'

Elizabeth's last line of the message had slipped tears down Peter's face, but it had also made his heart feel light enough to easily pass a test of it against the weight of a feather. Watching another bright flash it made Peter smile to know that Elizabeth had seen it as well and was thinking of him while he thought of her. Peter smiled brighter at the fact that she was also probably having to console poor Satchmo seeing as the dog did not share his family's love of thunder. Peter wasn't sure how she had managed to keep the loyal lab through everything that must have happened to her after the embezzlement charges, but she had mentioned several times that Satchmo was selflessly keeping his side of the bed warm for him.

Peter was so absorbed by thoughts of Elizabeth and watching the storm that he didn't even notice how intently Neal was watching him. Neal had been subtle about his spying at first, pretending to read a book on the couch. However as the storm developed it became clear that Peter was completely unaware of his surroundings. Watching him by the glass doors Neal barely recognized him. Standing up straight with his shoulders held back and his head up Neal suddenly realized that Peter was considerably taller than he was, something he hadn't noticed before since Peter usually held himself in a way that gave him the appearance of always having to look up to make eye contact. The smile that lit up Peter's face every time lighting lit up the sky wasn't the tight lipped twitch at the corner of his lips that Neal had gotten used to either but rather a true vibrant smile that exposed his top set of teeth and brightened the look his golden eyes.

The more Neal studied Peter the more he realized that this wasn't just a sheltered man impressed by the wonders of Mother Nature. As beautiful as the lightning was Peter's connection to the storm was obviously far deeper than a mere enjoyment of a visual display. Neal had seen Peter lost in a memory of the past enough times to recognize the way he became disconnected with his present, however this was the first time Neal had witnessed him reacting to that memory with joy rather than heartbreak. Whatever Peter was reminiscing about it proved that a lifetime of subjugation had only left him bent but not broken. Neal felt like he was being given a glimpse of who Peter could have been if he hadn't had the misfortune of being born destined to an undeserved fate of being branded sub-human, and possibly who he could become if given the right chances.

Neal wanted more than anything to ask Peter what he was thinking about, but he didn't want to disturb the rare moment of peace. Neal already had a strong suspicion that the storm reminded Peter of someone rather than just something. Neal's curiosity about the nature of Peter's ownership by Elizabeth was starting to reach cat killing levels. Neal could easily see Peter becoming intensely loyal to a fair Master considering how hard he tried to please even the ones who had tortured him. However it was a little harder to imagine someone who had actively purchased an Animula for use as a slave being open to the idea of falling in love with their soulless possession.

Then again if any Animula could win the heart of a Mistress it would be Peter. Neal had a theory that the list of Masters ran nearly the length of Peter's arm because his owners were quick to deal with the problem of his obvious humanity by getting rid of him. Even Peter recognized the fact that he was different than most of his kind and that he fundamentally lacked the ability to fit in with them despite his best efforts. Out of sight out of mind would be an attractive solution to a Master not wanting to deal with the guilt of owning a man rather than a beast, but the right Mistress might react differently to discovering a soul in pain. Neal didn't know how many women owned or even worked with Animula, but he guessed that they were vastly in the minority, if for no other reason that the fact that Glass Ceiling still kept most of them from even attaining high corporate positions.

Neal recalled Peter miserably admitting that he'd ruined a life by making an exception to his fifth rule in a warning to not let the same happen to Neal. A woman discovered to be in love with her Animula would at best be thought to have a mental illness and at worse would instantly be branded a freak and an outcast. Anyone rich enough to privately own an Animula would probably also heavily depend on their social status. Disgrace could easily lead to financial ruin if her friends and clients abandoned her. However that scenario begged the question: did she push Peter away in shame or was he taken from her by force? And if force was involved would she want him back if she got the chance?

Neal had become just as absorbed in his thoughts as Peter was and time started to slip away from them both. As the rain began to lash against the windows and obscure the view Peter slowly returned from the past. Looking over at Neal he caught him staring at him. As if suddenly remembering himself Peter automatically stooped down slightly and brought his chin closer to his chest. Neal wondered just how often Peter's above average height had been a disadvantage for him when dealing with Masters that were probably easily intimidated by it and likely to take an instant distaste to him for it even if only on a subconscious level. Neal hoped that Peter would naturally reach a point where he didn't feel the need to literally sell himself short around him.

"I'm sorry, did you say something?" Peter asked fearing he'd missed something when Neal just continued to look at him.

"No." Neal shook his head and smiled warmly. "I didn't mean to stare, I've just never seen anyone so enthralled by lightning before."

"It's…special to me."

"I can tell. Anyone who has ever doubted that you have a soul has obviously never seen you in stormy weather."


	38. Chapter 38

Chapter Thirty-eight

"Congratulations, Peter."

"What?"

Smiling but without explaining further Neal disconnected the empty syringe from the IV in the back of Peter's hand and then pulled the tape off the small loop of tubing so that he could remove the needle. A small amount of blood welled up on the back of Peter's hand which Neal offered him a cotton ball to use to stop it while he opened up a band-aid.

"I'm done with the antibiotics?" Peter asked hopefully.

"The IV ones, Taylor said that if you weren't still spiking regular fevers at this point we could switch over to an oral antibiotic." Neal explained as he placed the band-aid over the small puncture wound. "I bet it's nice to get that thing out of the back of your hand."

"Odd as it sounds some nights the IV bothered me more than my shoulders."

"How are your shoulders feeling?"

"Like they might actually heal."

"Good. This morning was the first time there wasn't any active bleeding, which has to be a good sign. We can probably start cutting back on how often we change the dressing. Can I see now, just to make sure nothing is starting to seep through?"

Peter answered by simply unbuttoned his dress shirt revealing the fact that he had put on an undershirt for the first time. In the mornings he came over after a shower just wearing pants so that Neal could redress the injuries before he retreated to his side of the apartment to finish getting dressed. So far he had always just put on a button down, several of which had been ruined by blood or infection seeping through the bandages before Neal had a chance to change them mid day. Tired of losing what little was left of his wardrobe and feeling more capable he had put on a t-shirt to help protect one of the few dress shirts that still looked halfway decent.

The simple fact that Peter was able to easily pull the shirt up and over his head spoke volumes as to how much better he was doing. Neal could recall just a week ago when Peter had been unable to reach up high enough to get a glass down from the cabinet. Peter had been with him for just under a month now, but he hadn't really started to improve until about four days ago. Which coincided with Neal having found him sitting out on the steps. Neal wasn't sure if it was just Peter finally winning the fight over the infection or if something else had changed. Whatever it was Peter had gone from barely managing to drag himself through another day to actively engaging with his surroundings.

They'd had a few good interaction and conversations before, but for the most part Peter had spent a majority of his time sitting either at the table or on the couch staring blankly into space. Over the past few days he had grown increasingly active to the point where now he was practically restless. He still needed frequent rests and he wasn't exactly chatty, but it was easier to engage him in a conversation without him losing his focus halfway through.

Three days ago he had stepped up to the book shelves in Neal's apartment and for the first time he'd actually picked out one to read himself, before Neal had chosen books for him and he'd read them like an assignment. Even more encouraging was the increasing time he was spending during the day out on the patio either with a book or just watching the city below. Although by no means truly tan he had at least lost the sickly looking ivory cast to his skin.

One of the more major changes over the past four days that Neal had noted was the length of time he spent on his own side of the house. It used to be that he was right there at the door first in the morning, and Neal had suspected even then that he had been waiting in the hall for quite some time for him to wake up and welcome him inside. At night he would sometimes stay until eleven or even midnight until it looked like Neal was about to fall asleep himself before leaving. Now it wasn't unusual to not see him until nine or ten in the morning and he usually excused himself an hour or so after dinner. Neal took it as a positive sign that Peter was becoming more comfortable with being alone in his new home. Having all but forgotten about the spyware that Mozzie had placed on Peter's computer it didn't even occur to him to see what Peter was doing with those extra hours spent alone.

Neal was still waiting for a better explanation about Renner. Peter had sounded so eager to join the con that night on the steps. However in the sobering light of day he had become more withdrawn about it. Neal wasn't pressing the issue at the moment, just like he hadn't dared ask anything about Elizabeth. Peter had just started to trust him physically, although he still jumped from time to time when Neal made a sudden move he had calmed considerably in his vigilance for any motion. He still leaned forward as though he was going to stand up every time Neal did, but he no longer actually got to his feet. Neal felt it was a good step forward for them, but no longer fearing being beaten was still a far cry from being ready to trust him emotionally.

Sitting at the kitchen table Peter still looked self conscious to have his shirt off. Despite everything that had happened he didn't like exposing the damage even if Neal was the only one there to see. Peter never spoke or really made any kind of noise when Neal was working on the cuts and now was no exception. The bandage looked clean on the outside, but when Neal pulled it away slightly to take a look at it there was one slash that was still actively leaking a clear yellowish into the absorbent dressing. The mark that ran down between Peter's shoulder blades was slower to heal, but it had also been deeper than the rest.

Taylor had explained to Neal during his first visit that the brutal laceration would have been a death sentence if Peter had stayed with Cheng since it was clear his previous owner never had any intention of getting him any medical care. At the time it had still been a real possibility that they were too late, however Peter had proven amazingly resilient. Even though the dressing would probably last until bedtime Neal changed it anyway, not wanting to take any chances.

"All done." Neal announced.

"Thank you." Peter replied quietly. He pulled his t-shirt back on quickly before getting to his feet and turning to look at Neal. "Seriously, thank you for taking such good care of me. I can't imagine anyone else at that party even attempting to help me if I had ended up owned by one of them instead."

"Don't be so sure, Peter." Neal smiled. "After all, did you imagine that I would help you when you first found yourself here?"

"No, I suppose I didn't."

"Don't give up on the entire human race just yet, Peter. We're not all monsters. You've lived in a world ruled by men who profit off you and don't care what the cost to you is. If the average person knew what Animula are put through they wouldn't stand for it."

"The Market has the world convinced that my kind don't even feel pain."

"I will admit that the Market is terrifyingly good at what it does. It doesn't help that people don't tend to want to confront things that make them uncomfortable. We walk past the homeless and make it a point not to make eye contact with them, social blindness and moral balancing are powerful human traits."

"I've noticed." Peter muttered bitterly.

"Are there any laws protecting you?" Neal asked. "They bring criminal charges against people for kicking a dog, how can there be no repercussion for what Cheng did to you? I know the Market developed collars but they can't condone life threaten violence against Animula, if for no other reason than the fact that you're their sole source of profit."

"It is illegal to strike an Animula to the point of blood or broken bone unless it is for self defense." Peter confirmed. "If I had called the Market, they would have taken me away from Cheng and fined him heavily."

"Why didn't you?"

Peter didn't answer, he just stared down at the list that ran down his arm and shook his head slightly.

"Because you fear the Market more than death." Neal answered his own question sadly. "At this point there's a good chance they'd just 'euthanize' you and take your organs."

"I don't really care what they do with most of me, but I can't stand the thought of my heart having to serve a Master after I'm gone."

Neal cursed internally at himself for engaging Peter in yet another conversation that just lead him to a dark place. It was so difficult to try and engage and help him without just ending up reminding him of how little he mattered to most. Neal had known that Peter feared the Market, but learning that Peter had actively allowed Cheng to abuse him to avoid going back still came as a shock.

"Peter, even if the Market gets your flesh they can never have your heart. Your true heart can't be taken, only given."

The sudden warm smile that brightened Peter's expression convinced Neal that at some point Peter had already given his heart away. Feeling it was best to quit while he was ahead for once Neal quickly went to change the subject. As much as he wanted to learn about Peter's past Mistress he already knew that their story had ended in tragedy of some sort. He wanted to focus on the positive as best he could right now.

"Are you feeling strong enough for a trip downstairs?" Neal asked. "There is a small garden in back that's private. It's not very large, but I think it would be a good way to start increasing your endurance."

"That's a good idea. I need to get strong enough to go back out in public if I'm going to be of any use to you. I'll be ready for that soon. I promise."

"I'm not worried, everything about you seems more alive lately." Neal smiled encouragingly. "I know being out in the city is hard on you, but I'll be with you and I promise not to use you as a glorified hat rack this time around."

"That is exactly how you have to treat me." Peter corrected seriously. "In fact I really should start calling you Master again now."

"What? Why?"

"Practice."

"A life time of calling humans Master isn't practice enough?"

"Not for me. For you."

"Me?"

"If we are going to fool anyone you need to react to it naturally."

"I do tend to freeze up when you call me that, don't I?" Neal admitted.

"Like a blue eyed deer in headlights."

"Point taken. Okay, we can practice, but please don't take it personally and you can still call me 'Neal' anytime."

"Yes, Master."

Demonstrating Peter's point Neal automatically wrinkled his nose slightly in disgust at hearing the title. Although Neal was pleased that Peter actually chuckled at his expense upon seeing his failure to act natural.

"You're right, I do need to work on this."

"You're a terrible Master, Neal," Peter said sincerely "that much I've known since day one."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

"Come on, let's go down to the garden."

"Yes, Master."

Neal did his best to take Peter's seemingly submissive response in stride. He knew he needed to get used to it for both of their safety, but that didn't mean he had to like it. The pair left the apartment and headed down towards the small out door garden together. They hadn't been gone for more than five minutes when Mozzie arrived. He knocked at the door, which pushed open when he did so since Neal never bothered to lock it.

"Neal? You alive?" Mozzie asked the empty room. "Hello?"

Mozzie stepped across the hall for a moment and pressed his ear against Peter's door for a moment. When he didn't hear anything he assumed that Neal had taken Peter out briefly, he had mentioned feeling a touch of cabin fever the last time they'd talked on the phone. Mozzie had come to talk about some of the detials about the gambling party as well as check in to make sure things were still going well with the unusual addition to Neal's life. He spent so much time just dropping in and out of Neal's life that he was slowing starting to feel like having someone stable in his life might not be such a bad thing for Neal.

Deciding to wait for Neal and Peter to return Mozzie helped himself to an unopened bottle of Verite La Muse 2001. Wine in hand Mozzie wandered over to the kitchen table. Spotting Neal's laptop Mozzie sat down and pulled the computer closer. He doubted that Neal had used the spyware that he had installed as he started open the folders that eventually lead to the program itself.

"No harm in just checking…"


	39. Chapter 39

Chapter Thirty-nine

Walking down the street Mozzie kept a close eye on his mark. It hadn't been very difficult to find her, but it had taken a few days to learn her routine well enough to come up with a plan to arrange a 'chance' encounter. He still wasn't convinced he was following the right person, but he was determined to find out. As she got within a few blocks of her apartment complex Mozzie picked up his pace to catch up with her while still being careful not to get too close. There were plenty of people out on the main street, but when she turned down the side street towards the residential area it became a lot more isolated.

Even though she walked at a quick pace the somewhat petite woman didn't appear nervous or concerned about the possibility of being followed. With both arms full of groceries for the week she was just trying to get home. She had almost managed to accomplish her outing without incident when a business man came walking down the sidewalk towards her on his cell phone. Distracted by the call he didn't appear to see her in his way and even though she tried to move further to the side he still slammed his shoulder into her on the way by.

One of the two paper grocery bags she was carrying split spilling the contents on the concrete sidewalk. The man on the phone snarled something about how she should watch where she was going as he continued on his way. She shot him a venomous look before she knelt down to try and find a way to collected her scattered groceries.

"Humans." Elizabeth muttered to herself in disgust.

"That guy was a real jerk." Mozzie agreed.

Elizabeth jolted at the sound of Mozzie's voice as she looked up at him with genuine fear reflected in her light blue eyes. Having circled around in front of her Mozzie smiled brightly to assure her he wasn't a threat despite the fact that he had paid the man who had just knocked into her to do so. The paper bag hadn't broken on accident, the man had sliced it open with a sharp blade that he usually reserved for cutting purses off his victims. It had cost Mozzie extra to ensure that the pick pocket left Elizabeth's wallet alone. The unpleasant interaction with his friend allowed Mozzie to play the short knight in shining armor.

"Here, let me help you." Mozzie offered.

"No." Elizabeth said quickly "I'm okay. Thank you, but I've got it."

"It's no trouble." Mozzie insisted as he started to pick up a few of the spilled items.

"Thank you." Elizabeth sighed in a defeated tone.

"I hate to see the stereotype of New Yorkers not helping one another being perpetuated, the city has come a long way since the 1970's but we still get a bad rap because of the few bad apples. If anything is really going to change we have to go out of our way for one another every once in a while."

Elizabeth smiled, although she still didn't look comfortable with him helping her. It was clear that she expected him to have an ulterior motive for his altruism. The fact that he did was besides the point Mozzie still hadn't thought she would be so instantly on her guard against him. He had used this particular con as an excuse to talk to people before and usually they were more than happy to engage with him in some bad mouthing of the guy who had been rude to them. Having a common enemy was often a quicker way to make friends than having any other common interest. Elizabeth however didn't seem to have the energy to be angry over the incident, she looked like she just wanted to get off the street and back to the safety of her apartment.

"Where are you headed?" Mozzie asked as he stood back up with his arms full of the spilled goods.

"I…" Elizabeth hesitated as she glanced at the apartment entrance half a block away.

"Oh, I'm sorry, you probably don't want some stranger knowing where you live." Mozzie apologized with an embarrassed smile. "I didn't think of that, I was just trying to help. I can just leave this here."

Mozzie made an awkward show of trying to find a good place to put down the groceries he'd picked up for her. Elizabeth instantly looked guilty for mistrusting him, which was exactly the reaction Mozzie had been going for. Neal used his sharp good looks to throw people off their guard and make them subconsciously want to help him just to gain his gratitude. It was amazing what people would do because a pretty face asked them to, sometimes even thanking them for the chance to be used. However Mozzie never envied Neal for being handsome and fashionable, it looked like a lot of unnecessary work and gained him unwanted attention at times.

Instead Mozzie used his small stature and a practiced shyness to give people the impression that he felt that he deserved to be mistrusted and ignored by others due to his nontraditional appearance, which made people just as subconsciously willing to help him to compensate for having judged him based on looks. People wanted to believe that they were better than judging a book by its cover and often went out of their way and against their better judgement to prove it. Making his own judgements about Elizabeth Mozzie had the feeling that she would be more immune than most to Neal's charms, but probably would be more susceptible to his own approach.

"I'm sorry." Elizabeth said softly failing for Mozzie's broken wing act. "Thank you for your help, I'm almost home. You can come up."

"Okay. I'm Dante by the way."

"Elizabeth."

Mozzie followed Elizabeth the short distance to her apartment. There was a code to get through the front door, but no staff in the lobby. Elizabeth thanked Mozzie again for his help on the short elevator ride up to the seventh floor. The hallway that lead down to her apartment had seriously out dated floral wall paper that was starting to peel away from the wall up near the ceiling in several places. The heavy scent of various cooking styles hung in the communal air of the hall as well.

Arriving at her door Elizabeth tried to figure out to get to her keys while still holding the one whole bag of groceries and the few odds and ends she had picked up off the street before Mozzie had swooped in. Offering his assistance once more Mozzie took a few more of the items so she could open the door. Inviting himself into the small apartment Mozzie was instantly accosted by a large yellow lab. Satchmo fearlessly pressed his nose against Mozzie's clothes and began a very intense investigation of his various scents. Backing up for a moment before leaning in sniffing at him again more deeply as if to confirm his first impression Satchmo starting wagging violently before prancing in place with a high pitched whine.

"Satchmo, behave." Elizabeth chastised gently. "He's not usually this excited about strangers."

"Dogs love me." Mozzie chuckled although he was a little unnerved by the enthusiastic lab.

Not giving up easily in his attempts to communicate Satchmo spun around in a tight circle before whining at Mozzie again with his tail held high.

"Hush." Elizabeth tried to calm the dog again. "I'm sorry, I guess he's just not used to guests anymore."

"It's okay."

Stepping past Satchmo Mozzie headed into the kitchen as if he lived there to place the groceries on the formica counter top. Elizabeth joined him to put down the rest of what she was carrying as well. Mozzie quickly looked around the kitchen and living area for a topic of conversation to latch on to before Elizabeth could muster up the courage to ask him to leave, however there was very little in the way of personal effects or decorations.

"Thank you agai…"

"Ah, I see you're a tea drinker, and that looks like the real loose leaf stuff not those factory floor scrids they sweep into bags down at Lipton." Mozzie interrupted as he spotted a set of tea tins. "Do you favor Black or Green?"

"Um...black mostly, I find most green teas to be bitter."

"Making a good cup of green tea is just as much art as it is science." Mozzie smiled. "The most common mistake is to use water that's too hot or to steep it too long, both of which can ruin the brew. I have some Bi Luo Chun green tea from the Jiangsu Province that is practically a spiritual experience. The key is to use water just before it starts to boil."

"I'll have to try that." Elizabeth replied politely.

Seeing that he was making her uncomfortable Mozzie stepped out of the small kitchen to give her a little more physical space. He hadn't really known what to expect when he'd hunted her down or what he even hoped to gain. From the few emails he had read she wrote to Peter every day as though he was some long lost lover, but not only did he never reply but it also looked like he hadn't even checked the email account for the past two years. It also didn't seem likely that Elizabeth had ever been in a position where she would have ever encountered an Animula, although she could have fallen on hard times.

Mozzie still wasn't convinced he even had the right person, the emails never mentioned anyone by name, it was always 'I', 'we' or 'you'. Noticing the gold wedding band that she was wearing further cast doubt on the idea that she had any connection to Peter. Mozzie had briefly worried that Peter was some how running some sort of scam on Neal with an accomplice and the 'love letters' were code somehow, after all he had ended up as Neal's property under very unusual circumstances. However being nearly beaten to death seemed way too extreme for any kind of con. The more he thought about it the more he decided that even if Elizabeth was the sender that perhaps Peter wasn't the intended recipient. If he was the subject of her obsessive messaging why didn't he ever respond? It was more likely a mistake and Peter was just combing through the odd emails that had ended up in an old account of his out of curiosity. Mozzie suddenly realized that an awkward silence had fallen over them as Elizabeth stood a prisoner in her own kitchen.

"Can I use your restroom?" Mozzie asked.

"Sure," Elizabeth replied even though it was clear that she'd rather he didn't "it's through the bedroom."

"Thank you."

Just wanting to take one last look around before he left Mozzie headed towards the bedroom. Elizabeth tried to act like she wasn't keeping an eye on him as she stayed in the archway that separated the kitchen from the rest of the space. She wasn't alarmed enough to ask him to leave, but he did notice that she had slipped her hand into her pocket where she probably kept her phone in case she needed to threaten to call the police to get him to leave if she became any less comfortable with him. Acting like he just needed a quick restroom break Mozzie walked with swift purpose.

His goal had been her medicine cabinet since there was a lot that could be learned by the contents. However he was instantly stopped in his tracks when he entered the bedroom and caught site of a small framed photo on Elizabeth's night stand. Although he wasn't facing the camera and his eyes were closed there was no question that it was Peter. He and Elizabeth were facing one another their foreheads touching in an intimate pose. She was looking at him with a bright smile on her lips but with a shadow of sorrow in her eye. Peter didn't look like he'd just been caught in mid blink, he looked like he was purposely hiding his golden eyes from the camera. The photo cropped out most of their bodies, but it was clear that he was holding her and despite looking like he'd rather not be photographed he still wore a joyful smile that mimicked Elizabeth's perfectly. Elizabeth had her hand resting gently on his shoulder revealing the same gold band that Mozzie had just seen her wearing.

Shocked by the ramifications of the one personal affect that Elizabeth had on display Mozzie almost forgot to head into the bathroom to cover his snooping tracks. Flushing the toilet without using it he pretended to wash his hands as well before heading back out into the living room. Elizabeth had actually started putting her groceries away, probably figuring that Mozzie would have quickly learned she didn't have anything worth stealing. Without knowing who and what Peter was the photo itself wasn't incriminating enough for her to worry about a stranger seeing. They had looked like a perfect couple in the photo, however if he had just opened his eyes the tender scene would have turned to something that people would look down on with pure revulsion.

Crouching down to place something on the lower shelf pulled up the edge of Elizabeth's pant hem revealing that she was wearing a black electronic tracking anklet. Mozzie suddenly found himself with far more questions than answers, but at the same time at a loss for words. Satchmo approached him again, sitting down at his feet he looked up at Mozzie expectantly with the tip of his tail wagging. Mozzie got the distinct feeling that the dog could smell his lost family member on him and was waiting to hear good news about his return. The dog hadn't judged Peter as somehow unworthy of love, and from what he could tell neither had Elizabeth. When Elizabeth stood back up and faced him he noticed a gold necklace around her throat that disappeared into her blouse and he couldn't help but wonder if she wore a second larger gold ring suspended on the chain as a way to keep it close to her heart.

"I…uh…I should go." Mozzie announced uneasily. "I'm sorry to have intruded."

"It's no intrusion." Elizabeth replied sounding genuine. "I appreciate your kindness, Dante. I'm sorry if I was cold before, I'm not really any more used to company than Satchmo is these days."

"It's okay, I'm not the most socially graceful creature myself."

"Would you like to stay for some tea?"

"Are you sure? I mean, I'd love to...but are you sure you're comfortable with having me here?"

"Satchmo likes you, and he's never wrong about people."


	40. Chapter 40

Chapter Forty

"Are you ready?"

"Honestly?"

"Peter, if you can't do this…"

"I'm just nervous." Peter admitted. "I'll manage."

"If you need more time we can reschedule." Neal assured.

"Time isn't the issue."

"Understood." Neal nodded. "Let's go."

"Yes, Master Halden." Peter replied solemnly.

Three days of having Peter calling him 'Master' again hadn't really helped Neal adapted to the title. He still hated hearing it, particularly in the setting of his apartment which he would rather have as a safe environment for them both. If the day went well he was going to ask if they could get back on a first name basis when they were alone. Neal had accepted the idea at first, but he was starting to worry that the constant reminder of the social rift between them was going to do more harm than good for them both. Neal was already used to slipping on aliases like a second skin and he was confident that he could change Nick Halden into Master Halden without having to practice being dominant over Peter while he was Caffrey. Keeping his various personalities separate was already part of his skill set.

Looking like he had some experience with dual personalities himself Peter fell back into his role and automatically opened the door with a slight bow before stepping to the side to let Neal enter the stairwell first. Neal did step out first, but he made sure to keep an eye on Peter on the way down the stairs. He had made serious gains with his endurance over the past few days now that he was off the powerful IV antibiotics. However Neal still worried that Peter would do his best to hide any weaknesses and that he'd have to be vigilant to make sure Peter didn't push himself too hard too soon. Neal hoped that they wouldn't be out for more than few hours today. Peter made it to the bottom of the stairs without any trouble and he went to open the front door for Neal.

"Wait." Neal said before Peter could touch the door.

Peter froze in place, having been given a direct order. He didn't question why Neal had stopped him, he didn't even glance at him. Neal's stomach turned a little at how literally Peter had taken his word. Neal hadn't meant it to sound like he was testing Peter's reaction to an order, but he feared that it might seem that way to Peter. Neal hadn't seen Peter's vacant stare in a while, but it was back now and Neal doubted that it was just an act. He knew how anxious Peter was about being in public even under the best circumstances and with forged papers in Neal's pocket things were far from ideal if they were questioned.

"Peter, I want to apologize in advance for anything Nick says or does today."

"You don't have to apologize, I understand."

"I know you understand, but I still feel an apology is warranted."

"Just get us both home safely and all is forgiven."

"Deal."

Feeling better having gained Peter's forgiveness before hand Neal allowed Peter to open the door and they headed out. Neal discovered that walking through the city with Peter a step behind him much more stressful than the last time he'd taken him out a month ago. The first time they had ventured into the city Neal had been more focused on using Peter to gain access into the richer company buildings. He hadn't really worried about anyone challenging his ownership of the Animula at the time, because he hadn't been very concerned over the concept of losing him since he hadn't cost anything to acquire. Now that he had developed the beginning of a true friendship with Peter he was terrified that people would somehow sense that they had what was considered an unnatural relationship and seek to tear them apart to restore order.

Making their way quickly towards their destination in Midtown Neal found himself avoiding eye contact with people when usually he didn't worry about casually catching people's glance. Neal had never felt so separated from the rest of the humanity that surrounded him, feeling not only as though he suddenly had nothing in common with any of them, but also that they were all a direct threat. Neal was used to being the predator in a crowd, always looking for an easy target for a con, now he had to keep a sharp eye out to make sure he and Peter didn't become prey. Far more uncomfortable with being out among the humans Peter stayed directly behind Neal's left shoulder without looking around, counting on Neal to guard as well as guide him through the streets.

Neal was grateful to arrive at the tailor without incident. He was just about to reach out to open the door when Peter slipped in and opened it for him. Neal took a breath to say 'thank you' but caught himself before he actually said anything. Neal risked looking at Peter who looked up at him briefly with a quick nod to let Neal know he was still willing to do this. Having the go ahead Neal entered the well appointed men's store and headed towards the back. Nick was well known here and when he had called to let them know he was bringing an Animula in for a whole new wardrobe they hadn't even hesitated to set something up. A large sale was enticing enough for them not to care about the unusual client. The store owner was expecting him and the older gentleman hurried out from his office to greet Neal with a wide smile.

"Mr. Halden." Harper greeted formerly.

"Richard," Neal replied warmly "how's business?"

"Oh, you know me, can't complain." Harper looked over Neal's shoulder at Peter. "I see you're moving up in the world yourself. It's not just anyone who can afford to have an Animula follow him around."

"I got a good deal on him."

"Even so, I'm impressed. Although I have to admit I was a little surprised to hear you had acquired an Animula, sound financial planing doesn't really strike me as your style." Harper chuckled.

"He's mostly for show." Neal forced himself to laugh as well.

"Ah, well in that case you need to dress him better." Harper teased. "Of course that's why you're here. Come on back."

Starting to feel sick to his stomach Neal followed Harper towards the large fitting room in the back. The way Harper casually talked about Peter as though he wasn't standing right there listening was disconcerting. There were several other businessmen in the shop that had stopped their browsing when Neal had entered with Peter. Far from the fearful or disgusted look that the average person on the street gave them Neal could see a distinct hint of envy in their eye. The raise in status from privately owning an Animula had been exactly what Neal had hoped for when he first decided to keep Peter, but so much had changed since them. Not enjoying his new place at the top of the social pecking order Neal wondered how he could have ever wanted this.

The fitting room was more of an extension of the store with the finer goods on display around the walls of the octagon shaped room. The center held a dais for fitting and modeling with a three panel mirror along the wall behind it. Harper invited them both inside before closing the door and locking it for privacy. Without asking Harper stepped directly up to Peter and unbuttoned his jacket. Holding the jacket open Harper looked Peter over briefly with a critical eye. Neal was surprised by the way Harper had suddenly invaded Peter's personal space, he wouldn't have blamed Peter if he'd jerked back away from Harper but he held still as though it was perfectly normal to be inspected.

"Are you sure he's healthy?" Harper asked as he reached out and pulled on Peter's cinched belt.

"It's been at least two years, maybe more since he's been fitted."

"I can see the wear in the fabric, but still this is a lot of weight loss."

"His previous owner was…less than ideal." Neal explained evasively.

"That's a shame. I don't understand owning something expensive if you're not going to take care of it." Harper tisked in a conversational tone. "Well, at least he's in better hands with you. I'll leave a little extra room the cut, they'll be a little loose, but they will still fit a lot better than what he has now and you can get him to a better weight without having to replace everything too soon."

"Thank you."

"With his height I'd suggest a three button style." Harper noted as he turned his attention back to Peter. "Are you thinking all plain or some in pinstriping? And do you want more of them to be light or dark?"

Peter didn't answer and it took Neal a moment to realize it was because the question hadn't been directed at him. Completely uninvolved in the conversation Peter was standing motionless keeping his eyes down cast. The stance reminded Neal sharply of Peter's first day with him standing by the patio doors staring at the floor while Neal had been trying to learn about Animula through the internet rather than just asking the one that was ten feet away from him. At the time Neal had assumed he was just behaving normally, knowing now that it had been an act and that he had been in pain at the time Neal hated seeing him zoning out again for the sake of appearing more 'Animula'.

"Mr. Halden?" Harper asked when Neal didn't answer.

"A mix of plain and pin is fine, but more dark than light options." Neal guessed Peter's preferences.

"Single or double breasted?"

"Single." Neal replied feeling awkward answering questions Peter was perfectly capable of answering himself.

"Very good." Harper nodded.

Having an idea of what Neal wanted Harper fished his tape measure out of his pocket and walked over to small dais that he had clients step up on for fittings. Peter followed Harper and stepped up on the dais and stood in the center. Harper tugged on the lapel of Peter's jacket, taking the cue as a sign to remove the garment Peter did so. Taking the jacket Harper pointed to the tie and Peter took that off as well and offered it to him before being instructed to remove his dress shirt as well. He was wearing an undershirt with a tank top under that to ensure his nearly healed wounds remained hidden. Neal stood back watching Harper and Peter not even realizing that he was holding his breath until his lungs started to burn.

Taking the articles of clothes Harper placed them on a near by mahogany work table carefully. Stepping back up to Peter he caught sight of the long list of Masters tattooed under Peter's arm and furrowed his brow. Neal's heart raced and although Peter had already been anxious he looked close to passing out now. It was the first time anyone other than Taylor had seen Neal's forged code. Harper circled Peter like a shark once, his eyes falling on the collar burn that was showing above the undershirt collar. Peter brought his eyes up sharply when Harper reached up and brushed against the scar. Neal went to step forward but that motion only caused Peter to tense further.

Unsure of how best to help Neal just stayed where he was. He could see Peter visibly trying to force himself to stay calm, however his quickened breath and the slight quiver of his hands betrayed his mounting anxiety. Neal expected Harper to notice as well, but he didn't. Without making a comment about the scar or the list of owners Harper just started in taking measurements and noting them down on a pad that was laying on the work table. Harper may have an opinion about the apparently disobedient life Peter had lead, but if he did was keeping it to himself. Nick Halden was after all a regular customer and now that he had an Animula he would be bringing in even more business Harper wasn't going to risk Nick taking his business elsewhere by insulting the quality of his living acquisition. Neal allowed himself to relax to try and help Peter do the same. Rather than properly relaxing Peter just turned in on himself as his eyes lost focus again.

Trying to act like the whole scene was normal Neal wandered over to one of the leather chairs set up for people to wait in. Harper had always been detail oriented and today was no exception as he triple checked each measurement. Standing still except when Harper pulled on him to lift his arm Peter looked like he was mentally a thousand miles away, although he looked more comfortable than he had been when Harper started. Neal cringed as Harper pulled the measuring tape across Peter's shoulders. Peter had assured him that he could handle the contact before Neal had made this appointment and to his credit he didn't even blink. Although Neal knew from experience just how well Peter could hide pain.

Working quickly and professionally Harper finished taking Peter's upper measurements. Switching the tape to one hand Harper reached up and pressed his fingers into Peter's ribs. Neal jumped up as Peter suddenly went down on knees. Without thinking Neal rushed up to the dais and offered his hands to Peter to help him back up on his feet. Peter just stared up at him terror for a second before shaking his head slightly. Not seeing the subtle cue Neal didn't step back.

"Are you okay?" Neal asked concerned.

"Yes, Master, I'm fine." Peter assured quickly.

"He was just doing what I asked him to." Harper added.

"Asked?"

"The Market didn't show you his pressure point?" Harper asked surprised.

"What?" Neal asked more in horror than a desire for clarification.

"Animula have reflexes that can be used to guide their motions."

Demonstrating what he meant Harper reached down and hooked two fingers under Peter's jaw. Peter responded by getting to his feet making it look as thought Harper was effortlessly lifting him up. Once again just using his finger tips Harper pressed against the front of Peter's left shoulder causing him to take a few steps back, switching to the right side made Peter step forward. Harper pulled his hand away and Peter stopped dead in his tracks. Tapping on his shoulder instead of pressing against it resulted in Peter turning around in a full circle away from the point of contact, Harper touched his left side to get him repeat the motion but turning in the opposite direction.

Peter's interpretations of the physical cues were so instantaneous and fluid that he and Harper could just as easily be partners in a well choreographed dance instead of the sickening display of dominance that was actually occurring. Harper smiled warmly at Peter's quick responsiveness the way a trainer would take pride in a well performing dog, enjoying the control.

"Then there are the three different kneeling positions." Harper remarked conversationally as he continued his demonstration.

Before Neal could stop him Harper dug his fingers into Peter's ribs again instantly dropping him back to his knees. Harper put his hand on top of Peter's shoulder and he sat back on his heels. Neal felt like he was watching a glass about to fall of a table, in as much as he knew he should reach out and stop it his reaction time to the disaster just wasn't cooperating. Harper tugged on Peter's shoulder, only this time Peter hesitated making Harper repeat the motion. Closing his eyes in defeat Peter put his hands out as he leaned forward to comply.

Realizing Peter was about to bend all the way to the floor at Harper's request Neal finally snapped out of his trance. He pushed Harper's hand away and pressed his own palm against Peter's shoulder to stop him. Neal had no doubt that far from coming naturally that the physical cues had been trained into him by force at the Market to further dehumanize him. Peter didn't look up at him, but he did relax slightly under Neal's hand to show he appreciated being saved from further humiliation.

"Enough." Neal snarled at Harper icily.

"I...I'm sorry." Harper apologized automatically, surprised by Neal's tone. "I was just trying to be helpful."

"Why do you even need him on his knees in the first place?" Neal demanded.

"It's part of taking measurements for an Animula," Harper explained "I have to make sure everything is cut right so that he can kneel comfortably without placing any undo stress on any seams. Is there a problem?"

Neal took a breath to reply angrily to Harper's callous treatment however he stopped himself when he felt the tension snap back across Peter's shoulders under his hand. Peter risked bring his head up to flash Neal a quick pleading look to let him know he was just making things harder for him by causing a scene and endangering them both. Neal had known this was going to be difficult, but he was still surprised by how angry it made him to see Peter following orders. Harper was looking at Neal with a mixture of confusion and suspicion. He obviously didn't want to upset one of his best customers, but he also seemed to know a good deal about Animula and possibility had ties to the Market. If Harper felt something was wrong he could easily check into Peter and discover their secret.

"Mr. Halden?" Harper asked. "Is something wrong?"

"No. I'm sorry, I just don't like other people giving him orders. It undermines my authority with him."

"I understand. You need to be the one in control." Harper nodded. "He's had a lot of owners, and you did mention you got a good deal on him, there is probably a good reason for that. Have you considered a collar for him?"

"No."

"I'd highly suggest one. It wouldn't hurt to have one on him, even if you don't use it very often."

Neal had to bite his tongue to keep from acerbically correcting Harper on exactly how much a collar would hurt both literately and emotionally. The thought that people honestly believe the Market when they said that Animula couldn't feel pain boiled Neal's blood after what he'd seen. Even now Peter was starting to breath heavier just having Harper suggest the cruel device. The fact that Harper didn't even notice the effect the conversation was having on Peter was indicative of how deeply the problem with human perception of Animula ran.

"I'll order one for you, no charge. I have a friend who works at the Market."

"No." Neal said firmly. "We are just fine without it."

"Are you sure?"

"I am. He knows his place with me. Isn't that right, Peter?"

"Yes, Master."


	41. Chapter 41

Chapter Forty-one

"And that's how I ended up influencing basically every famous work by John Walker since 1972."

Elizabeth shook her head and laughed at the end of Mozzie's long, convoluted, and mostly fabricated story. Mozzie smiled as well, enjoying the chance to entertain. Mozzie had long felt that the purpose of casual conversation was not to convey truth and facts but to affect the mood of your audience in a positive way. Sitting on the small couch Mozzie reached out to pick up his mug of tea off the coffee table and took a sip of it only to discover that it had gone cold. He glanced over at the wall clock and discovered that he and Elizabeth had been chatting for just over two hours in what had felt like the blink of an eye.

So far Elizabeth had told him very little about herself other than a few harmless facts. She was currently working part time as an assistant at an event planing business, but she wasn't really interested in talking much about it. Having caught sight of her tracking anklet earlier Mozzie guessed that her job was part of some sort of work program that gave the business a tax break. She expressed a love of art when Mozzie had given his own occupation as an 'art dealer' and demonstrated more than just a casual knowledge of famous works and artists.

Mozzie had become so wrapped up in their time together that he had completely forgotten to work on steering the conversation in a direction that might help him better understand her relationship with Peter. The picture in her bed room, the ring she wore despite clearly not sharing the apartment with anyone, and her daily letters to Peter didn't suggest that she had ever seen him as a possession or if she had she had eventually seen him in a much different light. She certainly hadn't been working as a part time assistant her whole life, there would be no way she would have enough contact with any Animula in that line of work to develop a relationship with one. In fact Mozzie was guessing that she would have had to be either part of independently wealthy family or high up in a major cooperation to afford her the kind of interaction that would allow her to interact enough with Peter to see past his gold ringed eyes.

"Would you like me to refresh that tea for you?" Elizabeth asked as she noticed the look on Mozzie face after he had taken a sip at the tea. "It has to be stone cold by now."

"It is, and I'd love that. Thank you."

"No problem. Sorry I don't really have an snack type foods, I wasn't really expecting company."

"I wasn't expecting to be company so no harm no foul."

"Well I'm glad we ran into each other, it's been a while since I've been able to talk early nontraditional classic expressionist art with anyone at all, let alone how it may have related to the decline of the European upper middle class." Elizabeth chuckled.

"I'm telling you the theory is solid. I have another one on how the Illuminati have communicated throughout the centuries using hidden messages in fore-edge paintings on classic texts."

"I can wait to hear it. I'll get more tea."

Elizabeth laughed again and smiled brightly, looking like she genuinely wanted to hear the story, which was not the reaction Mozzie was used to getting when he announced one of his theories. Sitting across the coffee table from him in a small love seat Elizabeth got up and taking both her own and Mozzie's mugs she disappeared into the kitchen. Mozzie looked around to see if there was anything from Elizabeth's past around that he could ask about conversationally. However what little there was in the apartment was either strictly functional or impersonal decor. The only photo was the one in the bedroom and that would be inappropriate and awkward to just bring up out of nowhere. Laying on the floor at his feet Satchmo looked up at Mozzie with what Mozzie could swear was an accusing look in his deep brown eyes.

"Stop looking at me like that." Mozzie ordered the dog feeling guilty.

Satchmo just thumped his tail against the floor a few times before settling back down. Elizabeth soon returned with a fresh offering of hot tea which Mozzie accepted graciously. She sat down and took a sip at her own mug before putting it back down on the table. Mozzie was still trying to think of something to say that might lead to a useful conversation when Elizabeth brought her leg up slightly so that she could reach down and try to scratch at an itch under her tracking anklet. Mozzie was a little surprised that she didn't bother trying to hide the device as she tried to get in between the black band and her skin.

"Have you tried a coat hanger?" Mozzie teased.

"I actually have on occasion." Elizabeth smiled.

"Don't let me stop you if you need to head to the closet for a moment."

"I'll be okay, but thank you." Elizabeth said as she put her foot back down. "You know you're the first person that hasn't instantly become uncomfortable by my anklet. No one has ever even mentioned it, they just get awkwardly silent when they see it."

"It's not my place to judge." Mozzie shrugged. "It's not like it means you're dangerous or anything."

"You'd be surprised how many people think it means exactly that."

"Well I'm not afraid." Mozzie chuckled. "When does it comes off?"

"Never." Elizabeth replied defiantly.

"Never?" Mozzie repeated more surprised by her tone than her sentence.

"The parole board won't take it off until I formally acknowledge remorse for my actions, and that will never happen."

"You could just lie to them." Mozzie pointed out.

"No." Elizabeth said firmly. "Even giving them a lie would be allowing them to take what little I have left."

"Somethings are more important than freedom."

"Exactly." Elizabeth smiled warmly. "Thank you for understanding, no one else seems to."

"I'm guessing most people, the parole board included, think you're just being stubborn and unreasonable."

"Something like that." Elizabeth agreed sadly.

Suddenly looking weary Elizabeth stared down at the golden wedding band as she momentarily became lost in dark thoughts of the past. Mozzie found that he genuinely disliked upsetting Elizabeth, he wasn't used to becoming so quickly involved in the life of a mark. He had come here for information, but the more of it he got the more he felt guilty for having tricked his way into her home and trust. The fact that she had so easily accepted his company told him that she was probably fairly alone. He hated to push her further, but at the same time she seemed like she needed someone to talk to and revealing a secret even to a stranger could be cathartic.

"What does your husband think of your stand against the parole board?"

"Wha…what?" Elizabeth jerked her head up and stared at Mozzie fearfully.

"I'm sorry." Mozzie quickly apologized. "That was much too forward of me. It's none of my business, I saw that you're wearing a ring. I just assumed he must be taking your side on all this."

"No, I mean, yes, but it's complicated."

"Most things are, anything worth while anyway." Mozzie agreed. "He won't mind that I'm here will he?"

"No. He's...he's not..." Elizabeth stopped, unable to finish the sentence out loud a solidify the idea that Peter wasn't coming home.

"Elizabeth?"

"My husband was…" Elizabeth's voice had dropped to a whisper and she paused for a moment as her down cast eyes brightened with tears "He was…taken from me."

Mozzie had been looking to see if she even knew he was still alive, but he couldn't tell if Elizabeth had used the term 'taken' literally, as a euphemism for death or both. In any scenario her broken tone when she said it instantly gave Mozzie a horrifying image of the discovered lovers having been violently torn from one another. Mozzie curse his decision to pry for more information by mentioning Peter to her as she started to have trouble breathing from struggling to hold back her tears. He had tried to justify himself by reasoning that if she turned emotional he could offer her a shoulder to cry on, but when he reached out to comfort her Elizabeth jerked back.

"I'm sorry." Mozzie said genuinely. "I didn't mean to upset you."

"It's not your fault," Elizabeth assured in a weak voice "you didn't know."

Mozzie's stomach twisted painfully at hearing her forgiveness considering he didn't deserve it. He didn't know the details but he had known that something terrible must have happened to have her end up on an anklet for life and to be daily trying to reach out in vain to her lost love. Mozzie was starting to understand why Peter never replied to her, having been sold to sadistic Master what could he possibly say that would have made her feel better? It would be kinder to allow her to believe he was dead, give her a chance to move on. The problem was she wasn't moving on, the wounds may be old but they hadn't even started to heal yet.

Still trying to maintain her composure Elizabeth brushed away a stray tear that had managed to spill over and slip down her face. Closing her eyes she took a deep breath in an attempt to center herself. Although she managed to momentarily rein in her tears the tension in her body told Mozzie that all she really wanted right now was for him to leave. Slowly getting to his feet Mozzie was about to grant her wish and leave her to grieve in peace when tears silently streaked down her face again.

Unable to just leave Elizabeth alone after having put her in such a devastating state without at least trying to help Mozzie came around the coffee table to stand in front of her. After moving the tea out of the way he at down on the low table to bring himself eye level with Elizabeth once more. Looking lost Elizabeth she stared at him with red rimmed eyes unable to stop tears from slipping down her face but still unwilling to truly cry.

"Elizabeth…it's okay to cry."

To Mozzie's surprise Elizabeth actually managed a slight smile before she finally broke down into a heartbreaking weeping. Mozzie reached out and gently placed his hand on her shoulder in an attempt to show her some support. Seeking comfort after two long years without anyone to confide in even with just half truths Elizabeth leaned against Mozzie's shoulder as she continued to be swept by the torrent of emotional release. Mozzie risked lightly putting his arms around her and sat quietly allowing her to cry without bother her with any empty words. She didn't need anyone vaguely telling her everything was going to be okay, right now she wouldn't even be able to pretend to believe that could ever be true.

Feeling the sting of tears himself Mozzie wanted to tell her that Peter was not only alive but was in good hands. However it wasn't an option right now. He would have to go to Neal first to see how to best handle the new situation. Mozzie had no doubt that Neal would do anything to help put the star-crossed couple back together again, but it wasn't going to be as easy as just inviting her over for dinner. Peter might not even accept the idea of intruding on her life again considering the traumatic past. Eventually Elizabeth drew a few shuddering breaths as she fought to calm herself.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." Elizabeth whimpered between her tears. "I do regret what I did, just not why I did it. I'm sorry…"

"It's okay, you don't have to explain yourself to me."

"I knew there were risks, I knew we might get caught," Elizabeth continued breathlessly, talking more to herself than Mozzie "but I never imagined he would be kil…I…I should have insisted that we run."

"He wouldn't have put you in that kind of danger." Mozzie said without thinking.

Elizabeth suddenly pulled away from Mozzie. Realizing that he had just let on to knowing more about the situation than he should know Mozzie gave Elizabeth his best 'innocently ignorant' expression followed quickly by the slight variation of 'ignorantly innocent'. Mozzie had found it to be a powerful combination in the past, even against Neal who should know better than to fall for it. Elizabeth regarded him with suspicion for a moment but eventually she just sighed heavily and brushed at her wet cheeks with the back of her hand as she gave Mozzie a genuine looking warm smile. As much as the display had been hard to watch she did look like it had been helpful to share her pain with someone. Mozzie released the breath he'd been holding in relief not only because he felt that he had successfully avoided her suspicions but that he may have actually helped her in some small way.

"I'm sorry." Elizabeth apologized again.

"No need to apologize."

"I just met you, I shouldn't be burdening you with my problems."

"Shared joy is a doubled joy, shared sorrow is half a sorrow, Swedish proverb." Mozzie smiled. "It's what friends are for."

"Are we friends?"

"Maybe not in the traditional sense yet, but I'd like to think that we have good potential for it."

"Me too."


	42. Chapter 42

Chapter Forty-two

"Can you make it up the stairs?"

"I think so."

"Here, let me help."

"Thank you, Master, but I..."

"Please, just 'Neal'."

"Neal..."

Before Peter could try to protest getting help up the stairs again Neal slipped in under his shoulder to offer some support. Peter gave in and accepted the gesture, finding that by the time they were nearing the top of the stairs he actually did need the assistance as the stress of the day and his general deconditioning chipped away at his strength. Getting home from the difficult appointment with the tailor Peter wanted to retreat to his own side of the apartment, check to see if Elizabeth had written to him. However Neal automatically lead him into the main quarters. Once inside Peter decided that he didn't mind the idea of having company at the moment.

Neal helped Peter over to the couch before ducking out from under his arm. Needing to rest Peter sat down, leaning back he flinched as his back rested up against the couch but he had healed enough that after a brief flash of pain he was able to relax. Neal went into the kitchen and opened the fridge. Pulling out two bottles of beer he opened them. Drinking almost half of his own before making it back to the couch Neal offered Peter the second one.

Peter hesitated for a moment but eventually took the offer and took a pull at the ice cold malt. It had been several years since he'd had any alcohol, it was something forbidden by the Market but Elizabeth had introduced him to beer in direct defiance of the law, It hadn't taken him long to acquire a taste for it and now enjoyed it all the more because it reminded him of her. He had refused wine the few times Neal had offered it to him, but Neal handed over the beer as if he instinctively knew that Peter would be more interested in it. He wasn't even sure when Neal had stocked up on beer since it wasn't something Peter had ever seen him drink before. Neal sat down next to Peter heavily looking pensive.

"Humans suck." Neal said very matter-of-factly.

"I've met a few here and there that I can stand, but generally I agree."

"I don't know how you do it. I wanted to break Harper's nose after about ten seconds."

"If I let every human that mistreated me get under my skin I'd be insane by now." Peter explained. "I hated every second of Harper casually forcing me perform for him, but I have bigger issues than him on my mind. The most important thing to me right now is blending in. I don't want to get taken away from you."

"I don't want that either." Neal assured. "I'd apologize for losing my temper with Harper, but I'm not sorry. He was way out of line. I understand that we can't act like friends, but that doesn't mean either of us have to put up with behavior like Harper's. I know I put you at risk by calling him out, but you're not a show pony."

"Harper was an extreme example of Master/Animula interaction. It's been a very long time since anyone's used physical cues with me. Most humans wouldn't dream of giving someone else's Animula orders like that."

"So you still trust me enough to go out with me again?"

"I do. You were well in your rights as a Master to tell him to stop, and I appreciated that you stood up against him both when he was showing you my cues and when he mentioned getting a collar for me. I was just worried that he had Market ties and our cover story is literally paper thin."

"If I has insulted him too much he might have looked me up in the data base."

"Exactly." Peter nodded. "Harper wasn't worth it."

"I disagree and I agree at the same time…if that makes any sense."

"It does." Peter took a pull at his beer, finding himself feeling a little light headed from it. "When it comes to humans I've learned to chose my battles very carefully."

"Have you ever won any of those battles?" Neal asked, but instantly thought better of it. "I'm sorry, you don't have to answer that."

"No, it's okay. I consider myself to have won some of them in my own way." Peter replied with a sad smile. "Outright defiance is punished severely, and I have to admit that I have bowed to the system many times to avoid pain and isolation. I have followed orders, and I've been forced to my knees more times than I care to count…but I always get back up again and I find other ways to consider myself successful even if equality has been kept out of my reach."

"I don't think I'd have that kind of strength."

"You can't know who you are until you've been tested. The Market and my Masters have relentlessly tried to take my sense of self away, and there have been times when they have succeeded. When I ended up with Cheng I lost myself completely, to the point of just passively waiting to welcome death, and yet here I am."

"Giving life another chance." Neal smiled.

"Exactly. I count that as having won." Peter smiled warmly. "I take pride in the fact that so far no matter how much they've taken from me I've always found more in myself…and finding someone new willing to look past my gold eyes even when I tried to push them away at first is an even greater victory."

"To victory."

Neal smiled as he held up his nearly empty beer bottle for Peter to clink his own against. Agreeing to the less than traditional toast Peter lifted up his own bottle and after a quick tap the pair drank to their unlikely friendship. Knowing he was quick to intoxicate and feeling the effects more acutely than usual Peter just sipped a small amount of the frothy beer as Neal drained the rest of his own. After a bit of silence Neal looked around the apartment as though he was seeing it for the first time and then made a noise of frustration.

"Neal?"

"I don't understand why the Market's con works." Neal replied. "People can't actually believe that you're born understanding 'pressure points'."

"Why not?" Peter asked seriously. "If I strike you in the knee just right you'll kick."

"That's just a reflex."

"The Market explains physical cues as being just like that. I used to even believe it myself."

"What?"

"I don't have any memory of being taught cues, I have almost no memories before my early teens. I just *knew* what my Masters wanted when I was touched. It felt like instinct." Peter explained. "I used to believe everything the Market told me about what it was to be Animula, I didn't have any other frame of reference."

"Please tell me that you didn't believe them when they said you didn't feel pain. "

"No, I never believed that." Peter replied darkly. "I was introduced to that concept on the very same day that I first wore a collar. My Market handler tried to convince me that I couldn't feel pain while at the same time using it to drop me to the floor. You can't tell a drowning man that water is just an illusion and expect it to make him feel any better. However that lie was never meant for me."

"It's so the Market can convince the masses that collars are 'humane'." Neal sighed sadly. "Just about everything they do is to keep humans from thinking too much about the fact that an entire section of the population is being victimized for profit."

"And they have thousands of year of fear and prejudice to help support them. Even when Animula were thought to be conduits to the gods they were still forced to the fringes of society, separated and isolated from humans."

"I don't know how to fight such a powerful and ingrained system."

"You changed your own heart about Animula, that's a good first step."

"I didn't change it on my own, you help me, and I can't be the first human who had their notions of Animula turned on their head by you."

"No…you're not the first." Peter confirmed with a hint of a smile.

"I suspected as much." Neal smiled at Peter encouragingly.

Peter studied Neal for a moment and found himself honestly contemplating telling him about Elizabeth. He didn't remember exactly what he may or may not have told Neal already while he was feverish or drugged, but the expectant look on Neal's face told him that he had at least hinted that he'd found his greatest victory in life with her. In the month they had spent together Peter had already confided far more in Neal than he had ever expected to. However when it came to Elizabeth he found himself unable to openly talk about her. Secrecy had been his only means for protecting her in the past, he couldn't bring himself to risk her now by divulging their connection. Even if Neal was a true ally his heart over head tendencies might cause him to seek her out before Peter knew he could offer her a future.

"Peter?"

"I'm sorry, you're going to have to liquor me up more than just one beer before I'm ready to talk about that."

"I can arrange that." Neal chuckled as leaned forward to get up.

"Not right now, please, I'm exhausted."

"Of course." Neal leaned back. "I didn't mean to push."

"Yes you did."

"You're right." Neal admitted. "Curiosity is one of my great weaknesses."

"Hopefully I can help teach you some patience." Peter smiled.

"You already have. I feel I've been pretty good about not asking for more information on this Renner character. Although eventually we are going to have to talk about him if you still want to target him."

"I have been having second thoughts. I was angry when I mentioned him. He thinks I'm dead. Showing myself to him would be foolish, he would instantly be motivated to destroy us both and he has that kind of power."

"I can con Renner without you." Neal offered. "I know you told me that you didn't want revenge, but I get the feeling he might be an exception?"

"I've never hated any Master the way I hate Renner."

"He was worse than Cheng?"

"Worse even than the Market." Peter muttered as he found his eyelids suddenly getting heavy.

"Wow, okay, now I might have to insist that you let me go after him. What did he do to you?"

After the difficult morning with Harper and the long talk they'd just had the last thing Peter wanted to do right now was get into a conversation about Renner. Peter shook his head, which made him realize how dizzy he was getting. He doubted that it was the half of a beer that he had consumed, it certainly wasn't helping, but he figured the real problem was over exertion. He had been tired when they had first returned to the apartment but he was starting to feel like he might actually pass out. With the adrenaline from their outing wearing off Peter's body had decided to remind him that he was still recovering.

"You look like you're about to drop." Neal noted. "Come on, you need to lay down."

Peter didn't argue, however he didn't want to just lay down on Neal's couch and he started to try to get to his feet. Seeing what he was doing Neal got up and helped Peter do the same. Concerned Peter might not make it to his his side of the hallway on his own Neal kept close. Buckling several times Peter barely made it to his own bed, sitting down heavily on the edge he went to just lay down. Neal kept him up a moment more and helped him get his jacket, tie, and shoes off before letting him lay down. Having slept on his stomach for the past month he found it natural to lay like that now as he closed his eyes.

Neal turned to leave assuming Peter was asleep already. With his eyes still close Peter reached out and took Neal's wrist to stop him. Furrowing his brow Neal noticed how warm Peter's touch had become, pressing his free hand against Peter's forehead revealed he was spiking another fever. Peter's temperature wasn't dangerously high, but it was a sign that his system hadn't been quite ready for the stressful day. With his hand still wrapped around Neal's wrist Peter forced his eyes open and stared up at him. He had the same conflicted look in his eyes that he'd had a few minutes ago when Neal had hoped that he was about to tell him more about Elizabeth.

"Peter?"

"Neal…" Peter battled to keep his eyes open "I need you to promise me something…promise me you won't confront any of my Masters without me."

"I promise." Neal assured. "Does that go double for Mistresses?"

"Triple." Peter replied as he closed his eye with a heavy sigh. "I'm just not ready."

"Understood."

"Thank you."

"Get some rest."

Peter didn't have a choice on sleep anymore, closing his eyes again he released Neal's wrist as he passed out. Neal stayed by his side for a moment to ensure that he was okay. Neal hoped that Peter wasn't hesitating to mention Elizabeth out of fear that Neal would keep them apart. He figured now wasn't really the time to press the issue, but he wanted to talk about it eventually. Rushing Peter into something he wasn't ready for wasn't going to help anyone, but his tone just before he'd passed out suggested to Neal that he was starting to feel like he might be ready to talk about his former Mistress. When Peter remained peaceful Neal quietly stepped out into the hallway. Neal contemplated if he needed a nap as well and came to the conclusion that what he really needed was some fresh air. Heading downstairs Neal opened the door and was surprised to find Mozzie on the far side looking flustered.

"Neal," Mozzie said urgently as he look into the house "you're alone? Good. We need to talk."

"Moz…"

More agitated than usual Mozzie gestured for Neal to step outside rather than invite himself in. Confused Neal stepped out onto the front landing and Mozzie reached behind him to close the door behind him for added privacy in case Peter came down the stairs. Mozzie's nervous energy had Neal was starting to worry that he had somehow gotten word that the Market was looking for Peter. Neal had rarely seen Mozzie so worked up, he looked like he was about to crawl out of his own skin.

"Mozzie…"

"Peter has a wife." Mozzie interrupted quickly.

"What?"

"Not legally of course, I don't really know the details, but I saw a picture, and she's still wearing the ring, I just came from her apartment, she thinks Peter is…"

"Woah, wait, slow down." Neal demanded in an angry hiss. "You talked to her?"

"I didn't tell her anything, I just wanted to…"

Neal stopped Mozzie again by reaching up and putting his hand over Mozzie's mouth. Movement by the gate at the end of the walk way up to the house had caught his attention. Seeing how Neal's focus had been captured by something Mozzie didn't protest being silenced. Neal held his breath as he stared at the gate that Mozzie had left open looking to see if the intruder would show themselves. It was hard to know if someone at that distance could understand any of the conversation that had happened but they would certainly be able to detect the silence.

Neal was about to pull Mozzie inside to find a place to continue their conversation in private when a raven haired woman with pale blue eyes reddened by tears stepped out from her hiding place. Catching site of her himself Mozzie tensed in surprise, clearly not having expected to have been followed. She didn't approach, but she didn't look like she was going to leave either. Mozzie hadn't given him a name but there was no doubt in Neal's mind that this the woman behind the one code that Peter wore on his arm with enough pride to have underlined it in blood. Neal thought to himself about how his promise to Peter not to make contact with any of his Masters hadn't lasted long even by his standards, but now that she was standing here he couldn't just send her away.

"Hello, Elizabeth. Please, come inside."

"Who are you?"

"A friend."


	43. Chapter 43

Chapter Forty-three

"Stay away from me, both of you!"

"Elizabeth, wait, please…"

Neal swore under his breath as Elizabeth hurried away. At first she had stepped closer as though she was going to confront them, but seemingly losing her composure rather than her nerve she had decided against it. This was not how he had wanted his first meeting with Peter's former Mistress to go, and he was fairly certain Peter was going to try and kill him again when he found out. Sighing in resignation Neal started down the marble stairs to follow her.

"Neal, maybe you should let her go." Mozzie suggested sheepishly.

"How did you even know about her?"

"Peter's computer." Mozzie admitted. "He was looking through an email account, looks like for the first time in years. Elizabeth has emailed him every day despite never getting a response. I didn't get details about what happened but the way she referred to their separation I got the feeling that it was a violent event."

"He told me he still loved her and no one could take that, even though someone must have taken him away from her."

"Neal, she thinks Peter is dead, and if he hasn't told her otherwise then maybe he's not ready for her to know yet."

"Imagine that." Neal snarled. "Did that thought occur to you at all *before* you hunted her down?"

"No." Mozzie admitted. "She's in a lot of pain and I deeply regret that I've made it worse, but I still think you should give her some space. Talk to Peter about her first."

"Thanks to you I don't have that option." Neal spat angrily. "I can't risk her deciding to bring the authorities here. If we're discovered I will go to prison and Peter will back to the Market or rather he'll force them to kill him before allowing himself to be dragged back there!"

"I'm sorry…"

"Just go home, Mozzie, I'll think of something." Neal sighed. "What name did you use with her?"

"Dante."

"Good. At least we don't have to worry about her emailing Peter using your name."

"Neal…"

Neal didn't have time to deal with or argue with Mozzie further as he went after Elizabeth. He hoped that he would be able to talk Elizabeth into coming back to the house and if he did he felt it would easier for her if Mozzie wasn't there. From what little Mozzie had told him Neal assumed that he had conned his way into her apartment, and having already been lied to once gaining her trust again wasn't going to be easy. At the same time he wasn't sure what he was going to say to her, he couldn't just spring the fact that Peter was alive on her in the middle of the street.

Clearly distraught Elizabeth was making her way quickly down the sidewalk. It was mid afternoon and the bright sunny day almost seemed like it was being disrespectful of her dark mood. Neal jogged to catch up with her and without thinking reached out to touch her shoulder to get her attention. Jerking away from him Elizabeth spun around and glared angrily at him with her eyes still red from tears.

"Don't touch me!" Elizabeth hissed. "Don't you dare touch me!"

"I'm sorry." Neal apologized sincerely as he took a step back and put his hands up to show he hadn't meant any harm. "Please don't go, let me explain."

"I don't want an explanation, I want you to leave me alone."

"Elizabeth…"

"You think I haven't met your type before?" Elizabeth demanded. "I will admit this is the first time one of you has conned your way into my home. I stupidly let my guard down for one minute, it's been two years I thought you sharks would have lost the scent of blood on me by now. Let me save us both some trouble: you can't blackmail me. I don't have anything to give, anything to hide or even anything left to lose."

"I'm not looking to blackma…"

"If you think you've found a story to sell I can promise you no one cares, but fine, go ahead and write this down: I love an Animula and I'm not letting anyone take that away from me even if they managed to take him! I'm not ashamed of loving him, and I will never deny it or believe that I'm in anyway mentally ill because of it!" Elizabeth said passionately. "A good man was murdered and no one saw justice for it. The idea that Animula are soulless natural born slaves is disgusting lie and the fact that they live in fear and pain is an atrocity!"

"I agree."

Elizabeth was startled into silence by Neal's simple reply. Although she lost some of her initial anger she was still regarding him with deep suspicion. Neal couldn't blame her, she had probably been marginalized or considered plain crazy by everyone around her for years. So far Neal had only met one other person who believed in Animula as human, and he had to admit that he didn't fully trust Taylor or felt like the vet was exactly firing on all cylinders. So even if Elizabeth believed that he held her same beliefs about Animula, that still wasn't the same as someone she could trust.

"Elizabeth, please, we need to talk."

Torn with indecision Elizabeth had become almost motionless. Neal wouldn't be surprised if she refused to even hear him out, she probably couldn't see much to be gained by risking trusting him. However she hadn't bolted yet, and that spoke volumes as to how alone she'd been. Neal doubted that she'd had anyone to really talk to about Peter over the past two years, and apparently she had been approached in the past about the scandal by profit seekers. Neal's heart sank when she took a step away from him, he hated to think of her leaving still feeling betrayed.

"You said you had nothing to lose, so there can't be any harm in talking to me. Please, come inside."

Neal took a step back to both give Elizabeth a little more space and to encourage her to follow him back to the house. Neal couldn't help but notice how Elizabeth reacted to being given more physical space in much the same way that Peter did as she relaxed slightly. She had probably learned much of her wariness of humans from being with Peter. When they had fallen in love Peter would have brought her to his side of the social rift rather than the other way around. Elizabeth glanced around nervously before nodding in what looked more like defeat than agreement.

"Thank you." Neal smiled and lead her back towards the house. "I don't think I actually introduced myself, James Maine."

"Elizabeth." She replied unnecessarily.

The fact that Elizabeth didn't give him a last name didn't escape Neal's attention. However he wasn't sure if she was keeping that to herself because of trust issues or in protest over the fact that Peter didn't have a last name. Neal had seen the wedding ring she was wearing, tradition would have dictated that she take his last name and perhaps she had taken to introducing herself without a surname as a way to further identify with her Animula husband.

With Elizabeth following a few feet behind Neal went to climb the small set of marble stairs where he had found Peter a few nights earlier struggling with what he had thought at the time was a desire to escape versus having no where to go, but now what he realized had been an internal battle on whether or not to reach out to Elizabeth. The fact that he had chosen to ask to participate on the con gave Neal the impression that perhaps he was looking to be in a better finical position before risking putting himself back in her life. Placing head over heart sounded like something Peter would do, even if it made him unhappy to do so.

Neal invited Elizabeth into the main parlor downstairs confident that Peter was going to remained locked in sleep for at least the next several hours considering the rough morning they'd had and how hard that half a beer had hit his system. Elizabeth accepted an offer to sit on one of the antique couches, but she perched on the edge of it so she could get to her feet quickly if need be. Neal sat in one of the high back chairs on the opposite side of the coffee table to her right so that she had clear line of sight to the front door in an effort to make her feel more comfortable with the awkward situation. Neal took a breath to speak but suddenly realized he didn't have any idea what he should say.

"I shouldn't have come here." Elizabeth sighed as she started to get to her feet.

"Wait, I'm sorry, I'm just not really sure what to say."

"The truth would be nice."

"I recently met my first Animula." Neal replied truthfully. "He wasn't what I was expecting. Honestly I never really gave Animula much thought before, I just assumed that what little I had heard about them was true."

"Which is one of the greatest problem that they face." Elizabeth replied sadly. "With so few of them in the city they are very much 'out of sight, out of mind' for most."

"I want to change that. I'm just not sure where a good place to start is." Neal answered, continuing with truth without giving her the whole story. "I have a feeling the Market comes down pretty hard on anyone who tries to change public opinion."

"So you sent your friend to what exactly? Scope me out?"

"No." Neal assured. "Dante found you on his own, his own views of Animula have been challenged lately as well. He's not the best at standard social interactions, but he didn't mean any harm and neither do I. We've both had our world view turned upside down lately."

"Meeting the right Animula can do that to you." Elizabeth smiled sadly. "It's life changing."

"Certainly changed mine." Neal agreed.

Elizabeth studied Neal for a moment. He flashed her his warmest smile, but she still looked like she was still expecting him to try and use her in some way. Neal had a powerful urge to just tell her the full truth, but it wasn't his truth to share. If he was going to respect Peter as his own person he also needed to respect his decisions and he'd already made this one clear.

Staying quiet Elizabeth waited for Neal to continue, probably just waiting to hear what the 'catch' was so that she could label him as one more in a long line of untrustworthy humans and move on. He hated having her see him as some sort of enemy, but understood that she most likely saw all humans as the enemy on some level. Neal was surprised when the fight in her light blue eyes was suddenly replaced by a look of defeat. She must have been quick to talk to Mozzie, meaning the years of keeping the truth of her story to herself was taking its toll. He already knew she wasn't ashamed to admit loving Peter, but defiantly defending her love against a system that had labeled her a criminal wasn't the same as having a sympathetic ear to listen to her story and validate her grief. Elizabeth sighed heavily, sounding tired of the battle that she'd been fighting alone for so long.

"Elizabeth?" Neal asked in concern.

"How much do you know about me?" Elizabeth asked sounding miserable.

"I know you loved an Animula and I'm willing to bet he loved you in return."

"His name is Peter…or rather I suppose it 'was'." Elizabeth reached up and brushed away a stray tear. "I watched him die and I still haven't been able to refer to him in the past tense."

Neal was surprised to hear that Elizabeth believed that she had seen him killed, he had assumed that she had come to the conclusion that he hadn't survived being dragged back to the Market after not hearing from him in two years. Elizabeth stared down at her hands as though there was blood on them. She had reached a point where she was beyond tears as the pain of the past became so overwhelming that she had almost become numb to it. Neal leaned forward to show her that he was willing to listen if she was wiling to talk.

"I couldn't afford him," Elizabeth started quietly "I couldn't afford him from the start…"

Neal remained silent while Elizabeth slowly unfolded her story, from how she had first met Peter through her company to the moment where she realized that she was going to have to steal to keep him. Learning that she hadn't gone out looking to personally own an Animula helped Neal understand how their relationship had been allowed to develop and also how she ended up losing him. Neal listened in horror as Elizabeth described her last day with Peter as he himself discovered the embezzling and the cruel passcode change that Renner had installed on the collar that the company demanded Peter still wear during the day despite being privately owned.

"I was angry with him at first for setting off his collar for a third time, knowing it would kill him, just to tell me something I already knew." Elizabeth admitted heavily. "However, I realized later he wasn't just telling me he loved me, he was taking control of his life in the only way he could at the time."

"He found a way to win the battle in his own way."

Elizabeth looked up at Neal for the first time since she started telling him her and Peter's story. Neal cringed internally knowing instantly that he shouldn't have used Peter's words to try and comfort her. Mozzie must have already said something that made her suspect that they had some connection to Peter in order to make her follow him and now he had just added to her suspicions. Neal decided that he wasn't going to insult her intelligence by denying that Peter was the Animula that had changed his life if she asked him directly. Elizabeth looked around at the richly decorated mansion before she turned her attention to the well tailored suit that Neal was still wearing from his trip out this morning.

"The Animula you met…" Elizabeth hesitated "…do you...do you own him?"

"It's complicated."

Elizabeth furrowed her brow at the elusive answer before she glanced up at the ceiling. Looking back at Neal with her eyes widened in shock she took a breath to say something but stopped herself. Elizabeth suddenly got to her feet and Neal automatically did the same. She flashed him a fearful look but he put his hands up slightly to show that he wasn't going to stop her if she decided to go upstairs. Still visibly torn with indecision on if she wanted confirmation on if Peter was here or not Elizabeth shifted her weight. Neal's blood ran cold as he got a glimpse of the tracking anklet that she wore, she hadn't gotten to the part in her story about how her embezzling had been handled but he had a good guess now. Depending on how closely she was tracked she might actually lead the Market directly here. Noticing the look of apprehension on Neal's face Elizabeth looked down at her ankle in horror as if having the exact same thought.

"I should go." Elizabeth said quickly. "If anyone asks you why I was here tell them I was consulting with you for an event, that's my job, Yvonne Premier Events, remember that."

"Eliabeth…"

"Tell Dante he still needs to teach me how to make green tea."

"I'll be sure to tell him." Neal smiled. "Are you sur…"

"If you really want to help Animula you can start by saving one." Elizabeth interrupted. "Just be patient…Animula are notoriously stubborn."

"I've noticed."


	44. Chapter 44

Chapter Forty-four

"If we don't get out of bed soon we're going to be late."

"Not going to work today." Elizabeth muttered sleepily. "I'm sick."

"You don't sound sick." Peter teased.

Elizabeth made a half hearted attempted at a cough to prove her supposed illness before working her way under Peter's arm so that she could rest her head against his chest and pretending to fall back asleep. Wrapping one arm around her Peter used his free hand to smooth out Elizabeth's dark hair. Making a noise of contentment Elizabeth reached up and gently ran her nails up and down the side of his ribs. Closing his eyes Peter took a deep breath and spent a moment enjoying the relaxing effect of Elizabeth's touch. If Elizabeth genuinely had a cold or even if she just wanted to randomly play hookie Peter would gladly laze around in bed all day with her. However her motivation for staying away from work today started to bother him.

"Elizabeth, I know you have your big meeting with Yates today…"

"Is that today?" Elizabeth asked innocently.

"You know it is, and it's important that you go."

"I can't…Renner's going to go after you the second I head upstairs."

"I'm not afraid of him."

Elizabeth propped herself up on her elbow and studied Peter for a moment. Looking up at her Peter smiled and reached up to card his hand into her hair. Elizabeth's concerned expression melted into a warm smile.

"You really mean that, don't you?"

"I do."

Elizabeth took a breath to say something more but Peter stopped her by pulling her down into a kiss. He didn't want to spend any of their time together at home talking about Renner. Renner was his problem to deal with, not hers. Although he had to admit to himself that he had thought that Renner would have tired of their game by now. However he was still acting like a coyote following a buck and nipping at his heels any chance he got in hopes of slowly wearing down his prey. Peter knew exactly what he was doing, and was determined not to be worn down by it. Renner was pushing at him in hopes that Peter would eventually physically lash out at him in return. As satisfying as striking Renner would be, attacking a human would mean immediate return to the Market and Elizabeth may not be able to get him back again.

Although keeping his temper around Renner was becoming increasingly difficult Peter managed by reminding himself that at the end of the day he got to go home with Elizabeth where as Renner was currently at the top of the office gossip for being in the middle of his fourth messy divorce. Pushing aside all thoughts of Renner Peter focused on the life and happiness he'd managed to find despite the odds. Rolling over Peter pinned Elizabeth to the sheets and bit playfully at her shoulder.

"Hey now,Tiger," Elizabeth chastised mockingly "I thought you were trying to talk me into going to work."

"Your meeting isn't until this afternoon…"

Peter woke from the memory turned dream and automatically reached out across the far side of bed in search of Elizabeth. Finding the sheets cold Peter was brought back into the present, however he didn't find his heart as heavy as it had been over the past two years. Beyond just being away from Cheng and finally waking up without pain he was genuinely starting to believe that he had chance at a future. He wasn't exactly sure what had suddenly given him more faith in Neal, but having their first outing into public together over with was certainly a big part of it even if it hadn't gone perfectly.

"I would probably be more worried if it had gone perfectly." Peter noted to himself.

Having spent a day visiting high rise offices with Neal before they had come to a better understanding of one another Peter knew Neal had once been perfectly capable of being like every other ignorant entitled Master. However, that had changed to the point where Neal had difficulty even pretending to play the part. The way Neal had announced that 'humans suck' when they had gotten home reminded Peter sharply of the way Elizabeth used to lament the same fact. They both used the term 'human' as if some how no longer applied to them as well now that they had sided with an Animula.

Sitting up on the edge of the bed Peter looked around trying to get his bearings on a time of day. He knew it had been early afternoon when he'd laid down, but it was impossible for him to tell if he'd been asleep for two hours or ten. His stomach growled at him to let him know that no matter what time it was some sort of meal was needed. Ignoring his hunger for the moment Peter stepped over to the laptop and flipped it open. Peter learned that it was almost midnight and that Elizabeth had emailed him a few hours back. Peter furrowed his brow at the odd subject title that just said 'Remember' as he opened. It was the shortest note she'd sent him but it still made him smile.

'Never say never.'

Peter wasn't sure what had prompted Elizabeth to send him the contradictory phrase today, but it used to be what she would say to him whenever he expressed disbelief in his luck at having her fall in love with him. Even after their unconventional marriage Peter often had difficultly with the reality of what they had found together. Whenever he thought out loud that he never thought something like this could happen to him Elizabeth always responded with the simple saying. Eventually she came to tease him with the phrase when she caught him staring at her, knowing what he was thinking. She was his exception to the rule and a very good reason to remove the word 'never' from his lexicon.

Peter found himself more tempted than ever to reply to her. More than just being a reminder that nothing was impossible the short note made Peter feel like she was searching for a miracle right now. Fearing he'd lose his resolve to stabilize his own life before disrupting hers Peter closed the laptop instead of reading through any of the past messages that he was still systematically reading through.

Once again Peter's stomach angrily insisted that he seek out something to eat. Practically grateful for the distraction Peter went to check to see if Neal's door was open, forgetting the late hour. If Neal was seeking some privacy there was snack type food on Peter's side of the apartment, but he felt he should check to make sure that Neal hadn't gone to the trouble of cooking dinner first. Opening his door Peter found that Neal's door was ajar so he stepped across and knocked.

"Come in." Neal called cheerfully from inside.

Stepping inside Peter found that Neal had set up an easel next to a low table and was painting something. The back of the canvas was facing him so he couldn't tell what it was of or if Neal was any good at it. Peter glanced over at the stove and saw a covered copper pot sitting on one of the burners that was turned to low. Deciding to be polite Peter stepped over to Neal first to look at the painting.

Sitting on a small rolling stool in a white tank top that was smeared in oil paint Neal pushed himself back slightly so that Peter could view his work. Peter stared at the nearly complete painting in stunned silence. He hadn't really known what to expect when he'd walked over, but it certainly hadn't been this. The choppy style painting with heavy brush strokes was of a brilliant sunset over the water. A silhouette of a church on an island rose up the left side of the canvas and was reflected in the surrounding water that had been made blaze orange by the setting sun.

"What do you think?" Neal asked.

"It's breathtaking." Peter replied truthfully.

"Thank you."

"But…um…" Peter wasn't quite sure how to finish his thought.

"You recognize it?" Neal smiled knowingly.

"It's a Monet, isn't it?"

"'Saint-Georges majeur au crépuscule'."

"It's a forgery." Peter suddenly understood. "The Degas you brought to Cheng's…"

"Also one of 'mine'."

"That's amazing, Neal."

"I was proud of that Degas. It was one of my best."

"It was also an amazingly risky move. Cheng had an art expert on hand to authenticate the player's contributions. If he had discovered that you'd brought a forgery he would have killed you."

"I know." Neal shrugged. "Although I was in far more danger from someone other than Cheng's art expert exposing me that night. You knew I was a con the second I said 'hello' to you."

"I suspected you were a con when you said 'hello', I didn't know it for a fact until you said 'thank you'." Peter corrected with a smile. "I still never imagined you were good enough or bold enough to submit a forgery done by your own hand and get away with it."

"Now you know." Neal chuckled.

Peter shook his head in disbelief as he studied the painting. He hadn't noticed before that Neal had a book open on his the small end table that was using at workstation that had a full page picture of the painting he was copying. Looking back and forth between the two Peter was even more impressed by the forgery. A good deal of Peter's doubt on Neal's plan going through was suddenly lifted. Peter had come across plenty of people who weren't half as good at what they did as they thought they were, Neal on the other hand seemed to know exactly how good he was. It was another good sign that Neal's con might actually work.

"This really is beautiful, Neal."

"Thank you."

"I would love to see some of your own works."

"Maybe some other time." Neal said dismissively.

"Do you sign them 'Caffrey' or 'Halden'?"

"Are you hungry?" Neal deflected. "You must be, you were too nervous to eat much breakfast, you had half a beer when we got home, and you've been sleeping ever since. I made chicken curry, hopefully you don't mind spicy."

Not waiting for an answer Neal put down the paintbrush in his hand and jumped up to head into the kitchen. Peter didn't understand why, but he felt he'd hit some sort of nerve with Neal asking about his art. Turning his attention back to the immaculate Monet forgery Peter was still amazed by the amount of raw talent it demonstrated. Turning his attention to the walls of the apartment Peter suddenly noticed something. Despite having lived there for a month it was the first time he'd ever really gave the decor more than just a superficial inspection.

There were no photos of friends or family anywhere, only a few artistically done framed photographs of the city. Nothing about any of the decor actually had a personal feel to it. The apartment looked amazing, but now that Peter really looked at it the place felt more like it had been carefully decorated for a magazine spread rather than containing anything that held personal value to Neal. Realizing that his side of the upstairs of the house that Neal clearly never used was decorated the same way Peter wondered if the place had looked like this when Neal had moved in. Neal had already mentioned that someone else owned the mansion, it was reasonable to assume that person owned all the furniture and decor up here as well. Peter suddenly got the impression that much like the rooms that he had been given by Masters that Neal lived in the space, but it still wasn't 'home' to him.

The more Peter thought about it the more he realized that Neal never spoke about family, the only friend who had visited in the past month was Mozzie who was an outcast in his own right. He didn't seem to ever worry that someone else he knew might arrive unannounced and discover an Animula in his apartment. He had briefly mentioned a woman, but the way he had fallen quiet afterwards had lead Peter to believe that it had ended poorly between them. Even at Cheng's party Neal had always separated himself out between games to stand alone by the window. Peter couldn't ever even recall Neal's phone ringing.

Lost in thought Peter stepped away from the nearly completed forgery and looked over to the kitchen table where Neal was just setting up two bowls for dinner. The fact that he had waited for company after making dinner despite probably being hungry when he made it hours ago told Peter that Neal held their meal time together in special regard. Sitting down at the table Neal looked up at Peter and smiled brightly to encourage him to join him. Stepping over towards Neal Peter was grateful for everything the young con man had done for him, but he couldn't help but worry that there might be another complication that might keep him from being with Elizabeth.

Neal might not want to let him go.


	45. Chapter 45

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTE: Everything Neal has to say about the De Beers diamond company is 100% true.

Chapter Forty-five

"Joseph Renner…you've done disgustingly well for yourself over the past few years."

Clicking through the corporate website of Peter's former owner Neal studied the professionally done portrait photograph of Renner on his profile page. Renner had a practiced 'trust me with your money' smile spread across his clean shaven face that Neal felt would have instantly made him hate the man even if he didn't know his connection to Peter and Elizabeth. Renner's hand tailored suit and Charvet silk tie wasn't the only give away to Neal that Renner was doing well for himself, it was the fact that he wasn't taking on any new accounts unless you were read to invest a million dollars up front.

Reading through the PR portion of the web site that was designed to court new high end investors Neal noticed that the company made no secret of its Animula ownership. In fact the exact opposite, they prided themselves in having one of the 'largest stocks of highly trained Animula in New York' at their disposal. They didn't give a number, but from what Neal had learned in the past it was rare for a company to have more than six Animula at any one time. Common knowledge said that there were about a thousand Animula in the city, but the more Neal thought about it the more he started to believe that the extraordinarily low number was probably more Market propaganda.

"The smaller the public thinks the population is the less likely they are to think about them at all." Neal sighed to himself bitter.

Only the Market knew for sure how many Animula were in the city and Neal felt it would be in their best interest to downplay the true population size. Not only would it be easier for them to white wash the idea of the subjugation of a thousand individuals compared to the systematic torture of ten thousand, but it would also allow them to drive prices higher through an artificial imbalance of supply and demand.

"Diamonds are practically a dime a dozen, but the jewelry companies certainly aren't telling anyone that."

In a lot of ways Neal admired the De Beers diamond company for their successful execution of perhaps one of the greats long cons of all time. Their control of the diamond market was nearly absolute and by owning a full eighty percent of the rough diamond market they got to not only decide the price but market supply as well. Neal had broken into one of their diamond storage warehouses in London where they stock piled them once just to see if the stories were true, he had not been disappointing.

In 1938 diamonds were a dying industry until De Beers had the brilliant idea to market diamonds not as investment, but as a status symbol for love. With some strategic help from Hollywood soon a diamond engagement ring worth two to three months salary became the expected norm. The basic message was the bigger the rock the more devoted the man. They rewrote history to the point where people today believe that the tradition of exchanging diamond engagement rings is centuries years old, when in truth the practice was currently barely three generations old.

Neal had never bothered with any heist jobs involving diamonds because in the end they were impossible to fence for even a fraction of their supposed market value. Even legally trying to privately sell a diamond was all but futile considering a diamond ring lost fifty percent or more of its value the second it was purchased from a jewelry store. The only time he ever stole a gem stone was if it had historical significance or if the jewelry designer was an artist in their own right.

Thinking about how easily the idea of diamonds intrinsically having value had been placed in the collective conscious of the public Neal started to wonder just how much of Animula history had been rewritten by the Market. Neal had assumed that the Animula label of being soulless was as old as history itself, but in the hundred and fifty years that Animal had been actively bought and sold by the Market they would have had plenty of time to change popular perception in their favor.

"The Market might not be so hard to take down if it could be proven that they started the 'soulless' rumors themselves. People don't like being deceived by others for profit."

Most of the revenue generated by Animula went to the one percent of the population that could afford them in the first place or directly to the Market itself. With public trust in billion dollar corporation and the elite at an all time low Neal realized it wasn't out of the realm of possibility that with some work Peter might actually live to see the end of the Market.

"Start by saving one…"

Repeating Elizabeth's words to himself reminded Neal to focus. As much as he enjoyed the idea of changing the world it wasn't like he could be the spokesperson for such a movement. If he stepped up to confront the Market in any kind of public way he'd just be arrested by the FBI for past crimes. However that didn't mean he couldn't work towards such a goal in the shadows.

"In any case we are going to need money to fight money." Neal mused to himself. "Renner and Cheng seem like a good place to start for getting some venture capitol."

Starting to get more heavily into planning the up coming con Neal pulled out his phone and called Mozzie. He had called Mozzie briefly after Elizabeth had left to tell him how it turned out, but he had also made it clear that he was still in the dog house for contacting her without asking. Although Elizabeth expressed interest in seeing Mozzie again Neal suggested that he tread carefully, she was in a very vulnerable emotional position and Neal wasn't sure if Peter was going to decide to talk to her in the near future or not. The phone rang twice before Mozzie answered.

"Hey, Neal…everything okay?"

"No, but it's going to be. I have a job for you to keep you out of trouble until then."

"What do you need?"

"Find out everything you can on Joesph Renner of Pinnacle Spire Investments. I want details on him, including anything rare or valuable that he has or is even rumored to have."

"This is another one of Peter's former Masters?"

"Yes."

"Do you think it's a good idea to go after him and Cheng at the same time? Could get complicated."

"You let me worry about how many birds I want to kill with one stone."

Not leaving any room for Mozzie to argue Neal hung up on him. After hearing the story from Elizabeth Neal not only had a better understanding of Peter's initial desire to target Renner, but also his later hesitation to expose himself to the old enemy. Having read the man's professional profile he seemed like the exact type to enjoy some high stakes illegal gambling. Renner would be easier to get an audience with if Peter was with him, in fact Renner would probably insist on talking with Neal if he just saw him. However if Peter wasn't comfortable with the idea getting even with Renner Neal wasn't sure if he would press the issue. They could cross that bridge when they came to it. In the mean time it wouldn't hurt to be prepared and keeping Mozzie busy was always good for general damage control.

Having read all he could about Renner and his investment firm Neal cleared his browser history and closed the program. He doubted that Peter would check, but it best to be safe. Neal glanced up at the clock and noted that it was just past two. Peter didn't always come over for breakfast, but he usually came over before lunch. Peter had gotten oddly quiet last night during dinner after seeing the forgery. Neal had watched Peter picking at his meal unsure if he should be concerned or not. Neal couldn't tell if something about the forgery had upset him or if the meal was simply too spicy for Peter's taste and he was just too polite to say anything.

Neal had decided not to think too much about it at the time, but now that Peter seemed to be avoiding his company today he was getting worried. Peter no longer needed to come over for medical attention now that he was off the IV antibiotic and the cuts had healed over to the point of not needing bandages. However that hadn't stopped him before from joining Neal on his side of the apartment for a majority of his waking hours.

After another half hour had passed Neal began to think about knocking on Peter's door to make sure he was alright, but he hesitated to invade Peter's privacy right now. Elizabeth's sudden visit had thrown Neal for a loop, and he did feel a little awkward having to keep the meeting a secret from Peter. He was confident Peter had slept through the event. It was impossible to sneak down the stairs in the older mansion without the oak steps making a considerable about of noise.

Neal suspected that Elizabeth had guessed the Peter was here and had stepped away to give the chance to contact her when he was ready. However she may have just been spooked by Neal and gone home to email him so that they could plot against him together if they perceived him as an obstacle rather than an ally.

"Although neither one of them seem the plotting type." Neal noted to himself. "Of course you never know what someone is capable of when cornered."

Neal reached up at rubbed at his throat. It was no longer bruised but the memory of Peter bearing down on him with intent to kill was still fresh in his mind. Peter had been near death but he still he'd still had a surprising amount of strength when motivated, now he was healthier and had a loved one to protect. Neal shook his head to clear it. He didn't really believe that Peter would attack him again, but Peter's sudden shift in behavior had him worried for the tenuous friendship that they had developed. As much as Neal hated being a 'Master' there was no escaping the fact that Peter had very few options other than keeping on Neal's good side since he depended so heavily on him for everything, from basic food needs to a hiding place from the Market.

If Elizabeth had told him that she had been here Peter might be resenting him for not coming clean about it last night, but not feel safe confronting Neal about it. Sitting at the kitchen table with the laptop Neal started giving serious consideration to the idea of using the program Mozzie had installed on Peter's computer to check his email. He hated to invade Peter's privacy, but it might be for the greater good. He was just opening the program when there was a soft knock at his door.

"Come in." Neal answered automatically.

Peter stepped into the apartment looking like he hadn't slept very well. The night before he had been avoiding eye contact again, but Neal was pleased to see that he was willing to look directly at him now. Peter came over and sat down across from Neal as Neal closed the laptop and pushed it aside. The pair sat in an uncomfortable silence for a moment. Even though Peter had initially seemed better, something was still wrong.

"I'm sorry I'm late." Peter apologized quietly.

"Coming over here isn't an obligation, Peter, you can't be 'late'."

"I'm not wearing out my welcome, am I?"

"Not at all." Neal smiled reassuringly. "I enjoy your company, I've become a bit of a loner this past year before you came along."

"It's not healthy to be alone."

"No, it's not." Neal agreed solemnly.

Neal had never been good at keeping lasting relationships either personal or with business partners. He placed some of that blame on his father forcing his mother and himself into WitSec and the string homes that had followed not to mention having to leave his name behind twice. The eventual life he'd fallen into with false identities and aliases hadn't helped him cultivate any strong bonds or ties to anything he'd call a true home. The closest he had come to finding someone that he had thought he could spend the rest of his life with was Kate and she was gone.

Having become somewhat lost in thought Neal suddenly noticed that Peter was studying him. When he was caught looking Peter dropped eye contact and bowed his head slightly. Neal recognized that Peter falling into old trained patterns was a clear sign of stress. Even if Elizabeth hadn't told him that she had been here Peter had still been reading her daily emails and thoughts of contacting her had to be weighing heavily on his mind. Neal wanted to talk to him about it, but felt it was more important that Peter start that particular conversation.

Neal pushed himself back from the table to give Peter some space to make him feel more at ease but instead it caused him to automatically stand up. Shaking his head in obvious frustration with himself Peter sat back down again. There was no denying now that something was bothering him. In the past the best way for him to have hidden his anxiety from a Master would have been to fall back on behaviors trained into him by the Market since birth. With Neal the opposite was true, but such heavy brainwashing would difficult to break free of particularly when something was distracting him. Knowing he'd shown his hand Peter stared expectantly at Neal, waiting to see what his response to the new tension between them would be.

"Would you like a beer?" Neal asked.

"I could use one."

"Me too."

Peter managed to stay seated this time when Neal got to his feet to go into the kitchen. Neal pulled two beers from the fridge and opened them before bringing them back to the table and offering one to Peter. Sitting back down Neal leaned back and sipped at the fizzy alcohol. He knew that alcohol wasn't a great way to solve problems, but he felt in this case it might be a needed ice breaker. Resting his elbows on the table Peter took a few long pulls on the cold beverage. Peter instantly lost some of his anxious edge, but he had replaced it with a weary defeat. Neal waited patiently for Peter to say what was on his mind. Peter was three fourths through the bottle before he looked up at Neal, but he didn't say anything and it didn't look like was going to.

"Peter, what happened? I thought we were doing well."

Peter didn't say anything right away. He looked around the apartment as if hunting for something that he missed before. Neal was starting to feel that Elizabeth must have told him about her visit and Peter was giving him a chance to come clean on it. Worried that if Peter had to drag the secret out of him that they'd lose the trust they'd fought so hard to gain would be lost Neal prepared to tell him the truth, even though he wasn't sure that was going to be any better.

"Peter…"

"I'm worried about you." Peter interrupted.

"Me?" Neal replied in surprise. "Why?"

"Do you know what the Market uses as its main training tool?" Peter asked, seemingly changing the subject.

"I assume collars."

"No." Peter shook his head slightly. "Collars are to help Masters feel safer and in more control, but pain is not what make Animula fear being returned to the Market. I actually wish it was."

"What?" Neal asked surprised.

"If the Market relied on pain I think the Animula would have revolted long ago. As much as I hated and resented Renner and Cheng for being physically abusive I never feared them, not the way I truly fear the Market. Pain works as a superficial method for control, but it also runs a high risk of breeding violence in the victim and raises the chances that they will fight back."

"I have to admit I am surprised that you never turned on Cheng."

"If there hadn't been other lives at stake I would have attacked him long ago, as it was the second I only had myself to worry about I lashed out."

"Push hard enough eventually you'll get pushed back." Neal agreed. "But if the Market isn't using pain, what are they using?"

"Nothing, literally. Solitary confinement is their weapon of choice and it is remarkably effective."

"Solitary?"

"Two weeks are mandatory, punishment for getting returned, after that in order to get out of solitary you have to kneel on the floor motionless for a solid twelve hours, only then will the handlers interact with you again and give you another chance at a new Master. Two weeks may not seem like a lot, but after the fourth or fifth day of staring at the same four blank walls completely alone an intense psychosis sets in. Despite that the first time I was returned it took several months before I was willing to kneel, but they knew eventually I would. Obedience is just a waiting game for the Market and they are nothing if not patient."

"Peter, that is horrific."

"It works. By using isolation the Market just takes everything away until the hopelessness of having nothing makes you willing to do anything just to have something…even if that something is negative."

"I can't believe this barbaric treatment hasn't lead to mass insanity."

"I think a strong case could be presented that it has. Which leads me back to why I'm worried about you."

"I don't understand."

"Neal, you never talk about family, Mozzie seems to be the only one who you connect with and I get the feeling that's mostly because he seeks you out, nothing about this apartment feels like it's really a home to you, you can't even settle on a name. It's a different kind of solitary, but the fact that it's self inflicted doesn't make it any healthier."

"Is that what's been bothering you? Are you worried that I'm not the kind of person you can count on longer term or that I'm going to become too dependent on you as my only social outlet?"

"Both options have crossed my mind. Although I have to admit now that I say it out loud I see that I'm worrying about two extremes without even considering a middle option. I'm afraid that you won't keep me, but also that you might not let me go."

"It's a perfectly rational fear considering your past." Neal sighed.

"Considering my past with humans in general: yes. Considering my past with you: no, it's not. You deserve more of my trust by now, but I still find myself struggling with the fact that you have chosen to be a con man…even though you clearly have the talents to be so much more."

"You trust me enough to tell me that you don't trust me, which ironically is a good start." Neal pointed out choosing to ignore Peter's last statement. "When you consider the possible consequences of you upsetting me it took a good deal faith in me just to tell me you're still having doubts. So I still think we have a good foundation to work on."

"I didn't think of that."

"Well...that's why solitary is such an effective torture." Neal smiled sadly. "No one does well when left to their own thoughts for too long, we need others to bounce ideas off of to keep them from rattling around in our heads."

"So why aren't there more people in you life?"

"...because I'm still licking my wounds from the last time I let someone get close."


	46. Chapter 46

Chapter Forty-six

Sitting at the kitchen table Peter waited for Neal to explain his last comment further, but it quickly became obvious that metaphysical wounds that he was licking were still too fresh to easily talk about. No one understood not wanting to talk about the past better than Peter. Although he found that he did feel better now that he had shared some of his story with Neal. Elizabeth had tried initially to ask him about his life, she had pointed out how powerful a tool silence could be for an organization like the Market. Peter had agreed, but he had still found himself unable to break that particular silence with her beyond short vague answers. He had always feared that his time with her was going to be short, he didn't want to taint it by talking about the dark past. Such conversations may have made him feel better, but he knew they'd just make her feel worse.

Not continuing the conversation Neal just stared at the table without looking up. Neal had mentioned having returned to New York for a woman to Peter when they had first properly shared a meal together a few weeks back. He had fallen into a morose silence then as well. At the time Peter had assumed that it hadn't worked out and she had left him given his word choice of things ending badly for them both. Watching Neal lost in thought now and knowing him a little better Peter was getting a sinking feeling that whoever she was she hadn't simply walked away.

Peter was just about to ask Neal if he was okay when Neal suddenly got to his feet. With the tension of their recent conversation still fresh Peter's conditioning forced him forward to stand as well. Neal held his hand up and shook his head to remind Peter that the being on his feet rule no longer applied. Peter was frustrated by how instinctive his reactions were, even with Elizabeth it had taken nearly a year before he didn't automatically physically snap to attention every time she made a sudden movement. Forcing himself to relax Peter sat back and drained what was left of his beer before idly playing with the bottle in his hands. He kept a casual eye on Neal as he walked over to the wall next to the book shelf.

Neal reached out and pulled on the photo of the Brooklyn Bridge revealing that was actually set into the wall on hinges to hide a small wall safe. Peter had seen the trick before and he wasn't surprised that Neal had one. Punching a complicated code into the keypad Neal opened the door. He hadn't bothered stepping in front of the keypad to block Peter's view and as a result Peter had easily memorized the number. From his vantage point Peter spotted several stacks of cash, multiple passports that had various front cover colors, and a few black jewelry boxes. Ignoring the rainy day stash Neal reached to the back of the safe and pulled something out that looked like it was made of gold.

With his prize in hand Neal turned to walk back over to Peter. The fact that he didn't bother to close the safe told Peter that the only thing he really cared about inside of it was currently out of it. Neal sat down and studied the golden object for a moment. It was a detailed statue of a cherub with a metal rod protruding from the base, the whole piece was about as long as Neal's palm was wide. Neal sighed quietly before finally looking up at Peter with a sad smile.

"I keep expecting you to share your past with me when I haven't really told you anything about mine." Neal broke the silence as he handed over the small golden cherub.

"What is it?" Peter said as he took a closer look.

"It's a broken piece off a music box." Neal said as if that explained everything. "It came from an amber music box that supposedly is one of the few surviving pieces from when the Amber Room in the Catherine Palace in Tsarskoye Selo Russian was looted in World War II."

Peter turned the tiny statue over in his hands as he tried to figure out how the gold trinket fit into Neal's past.

"The woman I loved was murdered because of it." Neal added quietly.

"What?" Peter asked shocked as he looked up at Neal. "Why?"

"I have no idea." Neal reached out and took the golden piece back and turned his over in his hands a few times. "On its own this piece is really only worth its weight in gold, even reunited with the box it would only slightly enhance the price of an already pricey piece of art history…but I don't know why it was worth murdering over."

"Where is the music box?"

"I don't know that either." Neal said with a edge of frustration. "She always had an odd obsession over the music box. In fact I eventually learned that she had thought I had the box long before we met."

"So your meeting wasn't an accident?"

Peter could tell answer to his question the instant he asked it and it had struck a nerve. An angry bitterness had flashed across Neal's features before it was replaced by an unfocused look of regret. For a skilled con artist Neal tended to wear his heart on his sleeve when he was 'Neal Caffrey' and not 'Nick Halden'. Whatever their relationship had been Peter suspected that it had started with a lie, and had probably been destroyed by it in the end. Staring at the golden trinket Neal's eyes brightened with unshed tears. Swallowing hard he got back up again, Peter managed to stay still but only because he had sensed that Neal was about to pull away.

Walking back over to the open safe Neal carefully put the cherub back in its place in the dark. Covering the wall safe with the photo once more Neal went over to the fridge and pulled out another two bottles of beer. Peter's head was already a little light from the first one he'd just finished but he accepted the offer of another one anyway. Sitting back down Neal sipped at his beer, mostly disinterested in it. Peter was nearly half way through the second beer despite drinking slowly when Neal spoke again.

"I was angry with her the last time she stepped out that door," Neal admitted "but I never imagined it was going to be the last time I'd ever see her. I never even get a chance to accept her apology or offer one of my own."

"I'm sorry. What was her name?"

"…Kate."

The way Neal hesitated to say her name out loud gave Peter a better sense of how deep Neal's wounds were. When Neal had first demanded to know who the scar underlined code in his arm belonged to Peter had hesitated to answer as well even though the name would have meant nothing to Neal at the time. There was just something about sharing a lost loved one's name that brought back the pain. A heavy silence feel over the pair as Neal went back to nursing his beer and become lost in dark thoughts. Peter sipped at his own drink again for a while while as he waited for Neal to speak again. After a few minutes he decided that Neal wasn't going to continue. An expression that Peter hadn't seen on him before had settled across his face. It took a moment for Peter to realize that what he was looking at was guilt. True or not Neal blamed himself for Kate's fate.

"You're not ready to talk about this yet, are you?" Peter asked sympathetically.

"No, I'm really not." Neal admitted quietly. "Not that I've ever had anyone to talk to about her. Mozzie never trusted her."

"So it's not just me he doesn't trust?" Peter asked with a hint of a smile.

"Not by a long shot." Neal shook his head ruefully.

"But you trusted her?"

"I loved her…trust was an unfortunate side effect."

"Unfortunate?"

Peter furrowed his brow as Neal suddenly leaned back in his chair and pulled up on his shirt. Neal raised the shirt high enough to expose his lower ribs on his left side. Peter's breath hissed across his teeth at the sight of two star starburst shaped scar Neal had revealed one over his ribs the other slightly lower on his abdomen.

"There's a matching set in the back." Neal commented.

"Gun shots?"

"9mm." Neal confirmed. "I trusted the man who did this. I was working a job with him and another guy and I thought I had left my passport behind, before I could even check Keller shot me twice and left me to die. I trusted my father, only to learn he was a dirty cop whose actions left my mother and I on the run. I trust Mozzie…but as good a friend as he is he has stolen from me multiple times. If I had learned my lesson and hadn't blindly trusted Kate as much as I did I might not have been so hurt when I learned she had lied to me at the start, I might have stopped and listened when she tried to explain rather than just push her away."

"Neal, you can't blame yourself for being hurt by a lie. You can't love someone and not trust them. Loving someone means going all in."

"Always a dangerous move." Neal managed a slight smile.

"But it can also be very rewarding." Peter added. "I…uh…I probably wouldn't be here without that particular play."

"Is that how I won the the card game at Cheng's? Going all in?"

"On a bluff."

"Wow, I wish I remembered that. Sounds like a good game."

"It was terrifying. Cheng folded and it was right then that I knew I must be his entry and that he wanted me gone. I could see from where I was standing that he had a very strong hand and he doesn't back down easily. There were still two other players in the game at that point and if either of them had called your bluff…well, I honestly don't even want to think about what might have happened to me."

"Lucky for us both I'm one of the best bluffers in the biz."

"Even though no one called you still threw your worthless hand on the table for everyone to see after you won." Peter continued. "I thought you had at least something. Even Cheng was surprised that you didn't even have a pair. We all thought you were too drunk to bluff."

"I was too drunk not to." Neal corrected. "It's my default setting."

Peter shook his head sadly, but he still smiled at the memory of the scene that hadn't been even in the slightest bit amusing to him when it was happening. Neal smiled as well, but it didn't last long. Looking contemplative for a moment Neal put his drink to the side before looking up at Peter and making a point of making eye contact.

"Thank you, Peter. You're right I shouldn't regret trusting her even if it was misplaced." Neal sighed quietly. "I do cherish that time I had with Kate, although I wish I had a second chance with her to make things right."

Peter's heart raced painfully at the sorrow in Neal's voice considering he was stalling on his own opportunity at seeing his own lost love again. Peter knew he had mentioned Elizabeth to him several times, but he also knew that even in the depths of delirium he wouldn't have divulged any real details. Neal continued to stare at Peter with an inviting smile that clearly stated that he was ready for Peter to share. Adrenaline poured into his blood just contemplating talking to Neal about Elizabeth right now and he tried think of a way out.

"Neal…"

"Peter, I know you have someone you love." Neal interrupted point blank. "You told me as much during the first few days we met. I didn't really listen then, but I'm listening now."

Peter just shook his head.

"You have to know by now that I wouldn't keep you from her. I'm human, but I'm not a monster."

"I know that." Peter assured. "I'm just not ready."

"Okay." Neal nodded in understanding. "That's fair, you've been through a lot. But when you are…"

"I…I may never be." Peter interrupted before he could stop himself.

"What?" Neal asked shocked.

"I'm afraid I'll only hurt her." Peter finally admitted out loud.

"Hurt her?"

"I'm in no position to provide anything stable for her. This con could go wrong, we could be killed, even if everything goes perfectly what if I'm caught by the Market again? Any second I could be taken from her, I can't put her through that again."

"Peter, that's the risk we all take in life one way or another. Loving someone means you might lose them, but it's still worth it. Remember, all in?"

"Neal…"

"I would do anything to see Kate again…even if it was only long enough to say good-bye."


	47. Chapter 47

Chapter Forty-seven

Watching Peter practically panting for breath as a panic attack set in Neal started to regret his decision to bring up Elizabeth rather than waiting for Peter to bring her up himself. However after talking about Kate and Peter volunteering not only comforting advice on Kate but also openly telling him about the game at Cheng's that his life had depended on with an air of humor it had just seemed like the perfect opening. However rather than being excited the prospect of seeing Elizabeth seemed to terrify Peter.

Neal could understand Peter needing time to adjust to the idea that he was currently in a position that was closer to freedom than he'd ever been in. Even when he was owned by Elizabeth the Market had known exactly where he was, now he was off the grid so to speak. Something that held a whole new set of risks and rewards. What he couldn't understand was the revelation that Peter felt that it would be better for Elizabeth if he never saw her again. Neal had only spoken with her for an hour and he could see she would give anything and everything to be with him without a moment's hesitation or regret.

If Neal hadn't met with Elizabeth and knew that she strongly suspected that Peter was here and alive Neal would be willing to let this conversation go for now and give Peter more of the time he felt he needed. As it was Neal could just imagine Elizabeth restlessly pacing her apartment while she waited for her lost lover to find the courage to contact her. Hearing that Peter was doubting that he'd ever being ready to see her again was heartbreaking and he felt he had to do something about it.

The problem Neal was facing was how best to continue the conversation in a productive manner. Peter had compassionately listened to Neal's story about Kate, but now that the subject had turned towards his own love Peter was looking more and more like he'd rather be kneeling on Cheng's floor waiting to be beaten than share his reasons for staying away from Elizabeth any further than he already had. After glancing at the door and visibly contemplating leaving Peter drained the rest of his second beer. Neal thought he was going to say something but instead Peter released his breath with a heavy sigh, not the usual sound of defeat but more like someone trying to rein in their temper and barely managing to do so.

"Peter," Neal started carefully "you can't honestly believe that leaving Elizabeth alone is the righ…"

"Neal, please, don't do this to me."

"Don't do this to yourself, Peter."

"You don't understand."

"You're right, I don't." Neal admitted. "I can't even imagine what life has been like for you…"

"Then don't think for a second that you are in anyway qualified to give me advice or decide what is right or wrong when it comes to Elizabeth." Peter growled as his golden eyes brightened with tears that he refused to shed. "I know you've loved and lost and I am truly sorry for that, but you don't know what it's like to love someone and be unable to even walk down the street by their side. You've never felt how painful it is to hold someone who wants to be your partner but is shaking in tears because they've been forced to make you their property instead. You can't understand what it is to love someone and at the same time be their greatest source of pain, and not out of malicious intent but simply because you were born broken."

"You weren't born broken, Peter."

"How else can you explain Animula?" Peter asked sounding like he desperately wanted a real answer. "Something happened, something went wrong with me. My parents were human just like yours were, why did I end up with gold eyes and you didn't?"

Neal didn't have an answer, he didn't even really have a response that wouldn't sound insulting. It wouldn't be any more comforting to be told that mere chance had condemned you to a life of humiliation and heartbreak as it would to believe that some sort of fate or destiny had been involved. Peter had been getting agitated before which Neal had almost seen as a good sign that he still had some fight in him, but now he'd fallen back into a melancholy once more. Still holding onto the empty beer bottle he stared at it as he became further lost in thought, which seemed like a dangerous road for him to be wandering alone right now.

"You weren't born broken, Peter." Neal repeated gently. "You were born different, but the only thing wrong with you is what the Market has done to you. They've tried to break you all your life and they failed. You still found love, you still found your soul. Don't give up on it now, not after everything you've been through. You managed to survive two years at Cheng's hand, you couldn't have done that without some kind of hope for the future, you must have kept the belief that you'd see her again. You have to still want to hold her again."

"…more than anything." Peter admitted quietly.

"Now's your chance," Neal encouraged "don't let fear stand in your way of taking the last step after fighting so hard to get this far."

Peter glanced up at Neal briefly before furrowing his brow as if trying to think of a reasonable argument, not coming up with anything he just looked back at the bottle in his hands. Neal could see that despite his earlier refusal to listen to his advice that Peter was seriously contemplating it now as his expression softened to the point of actually including a slight lop sided smile as he thought less about being Animula and more about the woman who had seen past that.

The old saying that you could drag a horse to water but you couldn't make him drink still held true here, but Neal had the advantage that this horse was extremely thirsty even if he wasn't willing to admit to it. Feeling he was close to convincing Peter to reunite with Elizabeth Neal leaned forward slightly so that Peter would look up at him, which he did. He still looked apprehensive, but at least he seemed willing to listen.

"I know you worry about her losing you again," Neal pressed "but it's not like she's gotten over losing you the first time. Elizabeth hasn't even reached a point where she's ready to move past the 'denial' stage of her grief."

"Neal…"

"I'm not saying it wouldn't be painful to lose you again, I'm just pointing out that you wouldn't be tearing her away from some new life that she's started. It's been two years but she hasn't moved past the day she's lost you. She hasn't given up on you."

"I know." Peter smiled slightly thinking of the hundreds of emails she had sent him.

"She's still waiting for you, she still loves you wholeheartedly." Neal smiled warmly. "No amount of time apart from you is ever going to change that."

"She is stubborn." Peter agreed with an unmistakable tone of pride.

"Funny," Neal chuckled "she said the same thing about you."

"I bet she di…wait…what?"

Neal's heart slammed against his ribs as he suddenly realized his mistake. He had been so focused on convincing Peter to contact Elizabeth that he had forgotten to hide the fact that he'd met her. Peter had started to relax but the color had suddenly drained from his face as he stared at Neal waiting for an explanation. Before Neal could even begin to think of what to say Peter's stunned expression turned dark as he narrowed his eyes with his jaw line suddenly hardening. He gripped down on the beer bottle in his hands hard enough to blanch his fingers white. Neal worried that Peter would be hurt by the apparent betrayal, but he looked more murderous than anything else right now.

"Neal, what have you done?"

"I…"

"The next thing you say had better be the truth." Peter snarled threateningly as his throat flushed red with a combination of fear and rage. "Don't you dare try to lie to me, not on this, not about Elizabeth. Why are you talking like you know her, like you've spoken with her?"

"Peter, please, cal…"

"Tell me to be calm and I will kill you!" Peter hissed. "How do you know Elizabeth hasn't given up on me?"

"I'm sorry, it was an…well not really an 'accident' per se." Neal said awkwardly. "Let's just say that through no fault of my own I met with her."

"You met her? In person?" Peter asked as some of his anger was replaced by shock. "How…no, wait, *when*?!"

"Yesterday afternoon," Neal admitted with a slight cringe "after we got back from the tailor while you were sleeping."

"Yesterday?" Peter repeated still reeling from the news. "I asked *one* thing of you, all I asked was for you to leave her alone! You promised me! I thought I could trust you!"

"It wasn't my intent to find her. Mozzie had…"

"Mozzie," Peter growled darkly "of *course* it was Mozzie."

"Peter, I'm sorry."

"No! I am so sick of humans telling me they are sorry!" Peter spat bitterly as he jumped to his feet and took a step back. "I don't want to hear it anymore! I beg for mercy from humans, I say 'please' and the most I ever hear in return is 'I'm sorry' before I'm struck down. Do you have any idea how many times I've been worthlessly apologized to in my life?!"

"Once would be too many for an an apology like that." Neal replied seriously. He stayed seated but he pushed his chair back from the table slightly fearing he might have to physically defend himself from Peter any second now.

"For every cruel Master that has ever taken pleasure in forcing me to my knees there are two others that tell me they're sorry for doing the exact same thing as if that somehow makes it better or right!" Peter continued in a passionate rage. "'I'm sorry I have to return you to the Market', 'I'm sorry I have to put you in solitary', 'I'm sorry I have to collar you', 'I'm sorry I have to drug the truth out of you'. Humans say they are sorry as if they have no more say in how they treat me than I do in how I'm treated!"

"Peter, I understand how this looks," Neal said carefully "but I didn't mean to hur…"

Neal was cut off as Peter threw the beer bottle he'd been holding at him with a considerable amount of force. The bottle smashed into the wall behind Neal and shattered noisily in a violent spray of broken glass. Neal hadn't had time to react before Peter had thrown the glass but he scrambled to his feet now with his hands held up ready for a fight that he feared he'd lose. Peter had nearly managed to kill him when he was half dead and delirious from fever, now he that he was healthy and angry he was far more powerful. Neal had never been a skilled fighter and he knew his only chance was to not let Peter get his hands on him in the first place. However Peter didn't move to attack him, but rather took a few steps back as he heaved for his breath that had been stolen by the emotional outburst. Kneeling on the floor Peter dragged his hands through his hair with an anguished cry of mournful frustration and pain before falling deathly silent.

Stunned by the sudden violence and the equally sudden calm it took Neal a moment to collect his thoughts. Glancing over his shoulder at the broken glass Neal realized that if Peter had wanted to hit him with the bottle he certainly could have. Neal moved slowly but he fearlessly stepped up to Peter and joined him on the floor by kneeling in front of him. Peter had fallen back into the old habit where his eyes lost their focus as he stared at nothing, with no good outlet for his anger he turned in on himself again. Hoping to bring him back Neal reached out to put his hand on Peter's shoulder.

"Don't touch me." Peter said flatly.

"Okay." Neal put his hands in his own lap. "Peter, this isn't how…"

"I can't face her." Peter admitted in a barely audible whisper. "…or rather I can't turn my back on her."

"You mean that literally, don't you?" Neal asked sympathetically.

Peter nodded miserably.

"Peter…"

"Did you tell her?" Peter interrupted in a hollow voice. "Did you tell her that I let someone beat me for two years without ever once trying to stop him? Did you tell her that rather than die for her that I just gave in to being sold again? Did you tell her how quickly I gave up on the humanity she risked everything to give me?"

"I wouldn't have lied to her like that. You may have lost yourself with Cheng, but you wouldn't be here with the chance to see Elizabeth again if you hadn't found yourself again."

"It doesn't matter. She shouldn't have had to learn what happened to me, she may not be over losing me yet, but given enough time at least the pain would have dulled and she could have been left with a memory of me at my best and not have to blame herself for my fall back into mindless slavery."

"You're looking at this the wrong way, Peter. You're a survivor and there is no shame in that. You think Elizabeth would be happier to learn that you killed yourself for her? Anyone worth dying for is always worth living for if you can, trust me she isn't going to hold the fact that you're alive against you."

"If you honestly respected me like you keep claiming to you would have let me decide if I wanted to stay dead to her or not."

"I didn't tell her you're alive."

"You said you met her…"

With Peter having calmed down and finally ready to listen Neal recounted the events that had lead up to Elizabeth arriving on his door step. Peter grit his teeth and growled a few choice insults under his breath when Neal told him about Mozzie hacking into his computer to read his email. Neal could understand his anger at the breach in privacy considering how personal the communications from Elizabeth were. Neal purposefully left out the part about knowing what Mozzie had done to the computer, it would only breed more mistrust. Peter showed some unmistakable pride in Elizabeth's ability to track Mozzie and her courage in confronting Neal about what she thought was an attempt to blackmail her.

"I had to do something when she showed up here," Neal ended his story "but I was very careful not to say anything about you being alive or the fact that you were right upstairs. Elizabeth needs to hear that you're alive from you, and you deserve to be the one to tell her when and if you're ready."

"Neal, I'm sor…"

"No, don't apologize. You had every right to be angry, at me and certainly at humans in general. I should have told you up front what happened. I just…uh…"

"Worried that I might kill you?"

"Something like that."

Peter looked past Neal at the shards of glass that littered the floor with a guilty expression. Neal still didn't have any regrets about bringing Peter into his home, but he was starting to give some serious consideration to investing in some plastic cups and dishware, this was the third time he'd have to clean up glass shards since Peter's arrival. Although he felt it was probably healthy for Peter to work out some of his frustration physically and Neal was grateful that it had just been glass and not his neck that Peter had decided to break.

"Did you know?" Peter asked suddenly.

"Know what?"

"That Mozzie had bugged the computer he gave me?"

"No." Neal lied.

"Just a fair warning, he might not be safe around me for a while." Peter said seriously.

"He knows that. He feels awful about it. I'm not trying to make excuses for what he did, but please know he's still a good guy. His curiosity and paranoia just get the better of him from time to time. He didn't mean any harm."

"He still caused it and as much as I appreciate you not telling her directly the result is the same. Elizabeth is clever, even without any names mentioned she has to suspect that I'm here."

"She does." Neal agreed. "I am truly sorry for that. She didn't ask me directly so I didn't have to lie to her, but the second she felt she had put the pieces together she pulled away from me and left after giving me some advice on how stubborn Animula can be. She could have demanded to go upstairs and I wouldn't have stopped her, but she didn't."

"Letting me decide." Peter smiled warmly. "She always did her best to make me feel like I had some kind of control even though we both knew it was an illusion."

"This is no illusion, Peter, and I think she'd wait forever…but I'm certain she'd prefer sooner rather than later."

"I…I can't just email her, and I can't risk going to her apartment there might be security cameras, the Market might still be watching her. How…"

"You let me worry about the details." Neal assured. "Give me the 'go ahead' and I will find a way for you two to meet in private."

"Her anklet…"

"Let me worry about the details." Neal repeated. "I will keep you both as safe as I can, I promise. There are advantages to being friends with a career criminal. If it's one thing I know how to do it's hide things."

"I hate to draw her back into secrets and lies, hiding, never knowing what's going to happen. What kind of life is that for her?"

"From everything I've learned I'd say it's the one she'd choose if it meant being with you." Neal risked reaching out and putting his hand on Peter's shoulder. "I know what you're thinking, but Elizabeth isn't some helpless moth and you're not a mindlessly destructive flame. She's made what she wants clear and she's accepted the risks, she's just waiting for you to come to your senses and do the same."

Peter looked down at Neal's hand on his shoulder with an unreadable expression on his face as he thought through everything that had been said. Neal had always been one to lead with his heart which resulted quick and at times rash decisions that sometimes had negative consequences but just as often had great rewards even if the decision was technically a bad one. Neal had learned that when Peter wasn't blinded by anger he lead with his head, needing to try to calculate and plan his moves as carefully as possible after a lifetime of devastating consequences for even the slightest misjudgment. It was frustrating to have to wait for him to come to what Neal felt was an obvious answer, but he could at least understand Peter's hesitation better now.

As the seconds ticked by Neal feared that Peter's calculating side was going to convince him that everyone would be safer if he stayed 'dead'. He wasn't wrong, Elizabeth's anklet was going to complicate matters, she had been given a conditional release the last time but if she was discovered with Peter she'd be facing prison time considering he was unregistered. It certainly exposed Neal to more risk the more people knew about him harboring Peter. The list of reasons that this was a bad idea went on and on, but when Peter's face lit up with a bright smile Neal knew that Peter's heart had won the battle despite the long odds. Neal smiled as well as Peter suddenly pulled him into a grateful embrace. Neal returned the affection carefully, knowing that the worse slash down Peter's back was still healing. Peter released Neal and sat back on his heels with an excited glitter in his golden eyes that Neal hadn't seen before.

"Does this mean you're ready?"

"Yes." Peter confirmed still sounding nervous. "She's waited long enough."

"You both have."


	48. Chapter 48

Chapter Forty-eight

"Elizabeth? Are you alright?" Yvonne asked concerned. "You look like you didn't get much sleep last night."

"I didn't." Elizabeth admitted.

"Is everything okay?"

"It will be." Elizabeth replied trying to sound confident.

"If you'd like to take today off.."

"No, I'd rather be working." Elizabeth said quickly.

"I understand." Yvonne smiled sympathetically. "If you need to talk, my door is always open."

"Thank you."

Yvonne smiled encouragingly at Elizabeth. Elizabeth took a breath, thinking about saying something further about the stress she was under, but she couldn't find the words. Feeling somewhat guilty Elizabeth just smiled back before excusing herself to go start her work for the day. Elizabeth had been with the small event planing business for just over a year now and she was endlessly grateful to Yvonne, not just for the chance she'd given her by hiring her in the first place, but also for the fact that she seemed to genuinely not care about her criminal past. Elizabeth knew that Yvonne had access to her record and knew the basics, but she also knew that her original company and the Market had gone to great lengths to make sure that the reasons for her transgression remained strictly off the books. It wasn't good for either of their images to have it public knowledge that someone had made a connection with an Animula powerful enough to drive them to crime.

At first Elizabeth had every intention of taking the story to the press herself. She had already lost Peter and although it was too late to save him she felt it might somehow help the others. Exposing the idea that a human and an Animula had fallen in love could have at least started making people rethink what they felt they knew about the supposed 'sub-humans'. However, Elizabeth didn't get a chance to talk to anyone before a Market representative had come to where she was being held by the FBI with some paperwork for her to sign about Peter along with a not so veiled threats about going public.

Elizabeth had spat a few choice insults at the man and refused to sign the papers at the time, but it didn't help. The case had progressed with blinding speed and Elizabeth had almost instantly been discredited as being mentally ill. As such she had less and less of a voice as everything started happened around her rather than to her. Before she could even try to tell her story no one would even pretend to listen. It was terrifying how effectively the Market had taken control of her case to the point of forcing a closed trial. Instead of getting her chance to try and defend herself in front of a jury of her peers she found herself not even invited into the room of men coldly discussing what best to do with her.

When Elizabeth's court appointed lawyer came to her with the deal that included the anklet along with an understanding that she not go public she had told him she'd rather go to prison than accept the mercy of the court in exchange for her silence. Even if she was given the maximum sentence it would only be a few years before she would be out and free to fight back. It was at that point that the lawyer that was supposedly on her side casually explained to her how close they were to simply having her deemed mentally incompetent and institutionalized for life.

Terrified of spending the rest of her life locked in an asylum being aggressively treated for an illness she didn't have Elizabeth had eventually agreed to their conditions. Sent into a deep depression from both losing Peter and also feeling like she had somehow betrayed him for taking the deal Elizabeth had struggled through several low level job where she was barely treated better than an Animula due to her convict status.

Elizabeth had met Yvonne through having hired her to host an event for the company she'd been working fourteen hour days for. It was common for Yvonne or one of her staff members to attend the functions to ensure everything went according to the way it had been planned and assure quality service. Yvonne had spotted Elizabeth standing apart from the rest of her coworkers and had stepped over to start a conversation that had ended in a job offer that had still stood even after Elizabeth had lifted her pant leg to expose her anklet. Elizabeth never really knew what had prompted Yvonne to take her in, but she worked hard to ensure that she never regretted it.

This was not the first time that Yvonne had offered her chance to talk, and it wasn't the first time Elizabeth had been tempted to accept the offer. Yvonne openly accepted that Elizabeth had embezzled from her an employer in the past, she never made mention of it and often trusted Elizabeth with helping with the company finances since she had experience. However Elizabeth had never dared test the limits of Yvonne's acceptance by opening up to her about why she had stolen. She loved this job and for the past year it had given her something that could at least momentarily distract her from everything she had lost.

Despite her previous words to Yvonne about rather being at work than taking some time to herself Elizabeth was finding it difficult to concentrate. She'd had two meetings with clients and now she realized that she didn't remember any of the details of what they had wanted for their events. Mostly on autopilot she had just kept going over everything that had happened yesterday between herself and the man who had called himself 'James Maine'. She had already run the conversation through her head a thousand times during the night and still not come to any real conclusions about him. At one moment she was convinced that Peter was alive and that he had been right upstairs, the next moment she felt like it had to be some sort of trap and that there was no way Peter could have survived the collar. However as more time passed she found herself thinking more and more about the potential that Peter could be part of her life again.

Although she was exhilarated by the idea that she might get a second chance with Peter Elizabeth still couldn't keep anxiety and doubt from gnawing at her. She couldn't bear even trying to imagine what the last two years of his life must have been like if he had survived. Elizabeth had concluded that the way James had told her that his view on Animula had recently been changed meant that if it was Peter that he'd come across he hadn't been with him for very long. The Market wouldn't have kept him for two years, he must have been sold off to someone at least once before encountering whoever this James was.

The more she thought about it the more Elizabeth decided that she was fooling herself by allowing herself to believe that Peter was not only alive but in good hands. She couldn't imagine a scenario where that could have happen. Part of what made the Animula's position so dire was the fact that the people they were sold to and the companies they worked for saw them as nothing more than commodities to begin with, and profitable ones at that. Anyone with good intentions wouldn't be in a position to meet Peter let alone purchase him.

"Although…that exactly what I did."

Elizabeth was starting to swing towards believing in Peter being alive once again rather than internally berating herself for doing so when her stomach twisted painful as she thought of a new complication. It suddenly occurred to her that Peter might not want her to know he was alive even if he was, which would explain him never replying to her emails. He had often voiced his fears of ruining her life if they were ever caught, and when they were it had. Peter would be type to sacrifice himself and his own happiness if he felt it meant she'd have a chance at a normal life.

"I don't want a normal life…you have to know that."

Elizabeth had been fighting tears on and off all day and now the sting of them burned even harder. Her office had a glass wall that looked out over the greeting and waiting area that had sofas and coffee tables where clients could look through various books and catalogs before they spoke with one of the planners. There were four such offices including Yvonne's all of which were full today. Elizabeth's boss had looked over through at her with concern several times during the day, and so had the others, but so far they had all respected Elizabeth's privacy. They had all learned early on that Elizabeth would listen to them and their lives and problems all day long, but that she never shared her own in return. Today though they all looked liked they wanted to offer her some sort of support, they just weren't sure how.

Taking a deep breath Elizabeth managed to keep up appearances, but when the phone on her desk rang she didn't dare answer it. She didn't trust that her voice would hold if she tried to use it right now. Since it was just the main business line one of the others answered if after a few rings. Feeling more and more exposed Elizabeth decided that she couldn't continue to work today, she had to go home, she had to go somewhere that she could hide even though the last thing she really wanted right now was to be alone. She was just about to get to her feet to let Yvonne know she was going to go home early when the intercom on her phone beeped.

"Elizabeth," Tracy the receptionist said "you have a call on line one."

"Thank yo…" Elizabeth's voice cracked just as she feared it would "I…I'm sorry, can you just take a message for me?"

"Of course. It's a new client, I told him I could help him, but he insisted that he wanted to talk to you."

"Did you get a name?"

"James Ma…"

"I'll take it." Elizabeth said quickly as her heart leapt into her throat.

"I take it you know him?" Tracy chuckled. "I don't know how someone can mange to sound handsome…but he does. I take it he's why you're been so distracted today? I think I'd want that one to call me in the morning too."

Elizabeth didn't have a response to Tracy's suggestive tone, she hadn't even really heard it. The moment she'd learned that he was on the line her thoughts had instantly stumbled over themselves as all of her hopes and fears from the past twenty-four hours rang in her mind all at once. Taking a deep breath she picked up the receiver and pressed the button that would connect her to line one. With the line live it took Elizabeth a moment to find her voice again as her mouth went dry.

"…James?"

"Hello, Elizabeth." Neal greeted warmly. "I know this is a little short notice, but I'm hoping you can help me plan an event for tomorrow night."

"Tomorrow?" Elizabeth repeated as her thoughts and emotions reeled at the implications. As desperately as she wanted to see Peter she knew the risks she posed to him.

"I have the space rented already," Neal continued casually "I just need help with some of the complicating details."

"There are a lot of those." Elizabeth replied as she rubbed her foot against her anklet.

"Nothing we can't get around I'm sure." Neal said confidently enough to make her truly believe it.

"I'll do anything to make it work."

"Glad to hear it. I trust it wouldn't be out of the ordinary for you to personally attend to make sure everything runs smoothly?"

"No, that wouldn't be out of the ordinary at all." Elizabeth assured. "In fact no one would think twice about it."

"Perfect. Tomorrow then? You'll be ready?"

"Absolutely."


	49. Chapter 49

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special note to Love_PB: You know this AU would not have existed without you, hugs.

Chapter Forty-nine

"I'm going to pass out."

"As long as you're not going to throw up…again."

"No promises." Peter replied seriously.

"You'll be fine. Deep breath."

Standing in the marble lined elevator Peter nodded and did his best to calm his racing heart with a few breaths. Neal chuckled as he reached out to straighten the black bow tie on Peter's tuxedo. Without even thinking about it Peter tilted his head back slightly and peacefully allowed Neal's hands near his throat, only realizing once it was happening that it was something he wouldn't have been capable of just a month ago. The way Neal smiled as he worked on perfecting the tie showed that he was having the same thought. Peter hadn't known what to expect when he'd fallen in with the inexperienced Master, but at the time he hadn't even been able to fathom the idea that what he'd really found was a friend. Standing here now Peter was still a little stunned by the concept that out of all the humans he'd met a conman and an unashamed criminal had ended up being one of the ones most worthy of trust.

Making a noise of frustration Neal pressed the emergency stop button on the elevator before he pulled on Peter's tie to undo it completely. The fact that Neal felt the need to start over again on the tie that had been perfectly fine before he'd even started messing with it gave Peter the impression that Neal was at least somewhat nervous about tonight as well. Peter didn't comment, he needed a moment to center himself before seeing Elizabeth anyway. He'd never been so anxious and so exhilarated at the same time and it was making it hard to think straight. Since they hadn't had time to get anything back from the tailor the well cut tux was the only decent thing Peter had to wear. Cheng hadn't really cared what Peter had worn during the day since there was always a high chance that he was just going to ruin it with a cane anyway, but he had replaced Peter's formal wear anytime he'd lost enough weight or ended up with blood on it to keep up appearances during hosted events. Peter had felt like he was going to be over dressed but Neal had slipped into a tuxedo that was probably worth at least half whatever Cheng had paid for Peter himself.

"There you go." Neal announced proudly as he finished the bow tie. "I'm not used to helping someone else."

"You could have fooled me."

Neal beamed a warm smile at Peter as he pressed the button to get the elevator to go again. Taking a step back Neal looked Peter over. Peter had had humans look him over plenty of times in his life, but it had always been when they were contemplating what they were going to do with his future. Neal didn't have the cold calculating look in his eyes that the others had, but there was certainly something weighing on his mind. Peter was about to ask him what was wrong when the elevator doors slid open directly into the luxury flat. Peter automatically took a step back and bowed his head to keep any of the guests from seeing his eyes. As part of their cover story Neal had arranged a real party through the event company that Elizabeth worked for so that it wouldn't raise any suspicion that she was outside of her usual radius and out past her usual curfew time. The anklet wouldn't be able to tell her parole officer that she was actually a floor above the party she was supposed to be working. The party was already in full swing and just a quick glance had told Peter that there were at least fifty well dressed party goers milling around the pricey space.

"Time to mingle." Neal said without much enthusiasm.

"I didn't know you knew this many people."

"I don't." Neal shrugged. "I don't know any of them."

"What?"

"I hired them. They're actors." Neal explained. "Well, 'hired' is a strong word, they think they are auditioning for a high society reality-type tv show filmed strictly on hidden cameras. Sadly none of them are going to get the part, but it's good for the resume to just be here and there's free food and alcohol."

"You're too good at this."

"I know." Neal held the elevator door open as it started to close but he hesitated to leave. "Peter…"

"Neal?" Peter asked when Neal didn't continue.

"Good luck." Neal finished awkwardly.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome and thank you as well. This has been…"

Neal couldn't seem to find a good way to end his sentence so he just put his hand on Peter's shoulder briefly before he forced a smile and turned to walked off the elevator. Peter furrowed his brow at Neal's odd behavior, he didn't usually become lost for words and the ones he'd started had almost sounded like he was saying good bye. Neal took a few steps into the room before he turned around again. Even keeping his eyes down cast Peter could see Neal's tense body language but he wasn't sure what to do or say about it, particularly now that there were other humans around potentially listening.

"Peter." Neal called so that he would look up at him.

"Yes?" Peter replied, risking meeting Neal's eye.

"There is no wrong answer, trust your instincts."

"What?" Peter asked confused.

Suddenly looking relaxed Neal flashed Peter a genuine smile and winked at him as the elevator doors closed leaving him alone. Peter stepped forward to try and open the doors again to get an explanation, but it was too late, the elevator had already been given orders to go the penthouse level when they'd first stepped on and it was determined to take Peter there after the first stop. Feeling claustrophobic Peter panted for breath as his already sour stomach twisted painfully. Forgetting about Neal's unusual message Peter's mind raced through what might happen the next time the doors opened. What if Elizabeth had decided not to come, what if she had, feeling light headed Peter was worried he couldn't handle either scenario right now.

Although near a full blown panic attack by the time the elevator doors opened all of Peter's fears suddenly fell away from him as he caught sight of Elizabeth standing twenty feet away outlined against the glass balcony doors by the lights of the nighttime city scape. She had her back to the elevator as she looked out on the city and the lights were low, but Peter still recognized her instantly. The large open floor plan flat had modern minimalist decor that had been enhanced and made more intimate with large sliver stands over flowing with flowers, wooden lattice work archways draped in gauzy curtains and lit almost entirely by a warm seemingly sourceless glow and a complicated system of tiny string lights that gleamed like stars.

Peter stood staring at Elizabeth surrounded by the fairy tale like setting long enough for the doors to start closing on the elevator prompting him to snap out of his spell and step forward into the elaborately decorated room. The way Elizabeth's shoulders had tensed when the elevator doors first open told Peter that she knew she wasn't alone, but she seemed unwilling or unable to turn around and face him as she continued to stare at the city. Peter took a few steps towards her before he noticed she was trembling slightly, Peter hesitated to move closer and stopped.

"Elizabeth…"

Elizabeth gasped sharply at the sound of Peter gentle call. Slowly turning around Elizabeth's eyes widened in shock as though she hadn't believed her ears. She brought her hand up to cover her mouth to muffle her demure noise of shock as tears streaked down her face. Even having seen him Elizabeth was frozen in place, unable to step forward and try to touch him, fearful that it would shatter the illusion of him being here. Terrified he might wake from a dream himself Peter approached her slowly coming to a stop just shy of touching her. With her eyes locked on Peter's Elizabeth managed to take her hand away from her mouth but still couldn't brave reaching out to him. Breaking into a reassuring lopsided smile Peter brought his hand up and gently brushed Elizabeth's tear stained cheek causing more tears to spill down her face even though her eye lit up with obvious joy.

"Peter…"

Elizabeth voice broke into cross of tears and laughter for a brief moment before she threw her arms around his waist and pulled herself against him. Tucking her head under his throat Peter closed his eyes and took a deep breath of her scent which brought back every intimate moment they'd ever shared back to him all at once. She had always been intoxicating to him and after their time apart the effect had been magnified. Still having a hard time believing this was happening Peter closed his arms around her shoulders to hold her against his chest in a protective embrace to solidify the concept that he had been reunited with the soul that had proven to him that he had one of his own.

Peter had long dreamed about what he would say to Elizabeth if he ever got the chance to see her again, and he had spent the entire day going over conversations in his mind to help him prepare for tonight. However now that he was in the moment he found that words were both inadequate and completely unnecessary. Elizabeth held on to him at first as though at any second someone was going to try and tear her away from him. She managed to relax slightly after Peter squeezed her tighter to assure her that no one was going to take her from him right now, they wouldn't live to tell about it if they even threatened to try.

Feeling secure in the idea that they were safe, even if only for the moment, Elizabeth pulled back just far enough to invite Peter into a tender kiss that quickly became more passionate. Eventually force apart by a need to breathe Elizabeth looked up at Peter as they both struggled to catch their breath. Smiling radiantly Elizabeth stole another quick kiss before bringing her hand up and resting it on Peter's cheek.

When she'd reached up Peter had seen that she was wearing her wedding ring on her hand. Worried that she would forget to take it off before going into work back when she was technically his Mistress she used to wear both of their rings on a long gold chain around her neck to keep them close but hidden. Looking down Peter could see the same gold chain disappearing into the v of her blouse. He had always wanted to wear his own ring on a chain as well, but every morning he had to go to into security to kneel down and open his shirt so that they could put the collar on him and again at the end of the day to have it removed. If he'd worn the necklace it would have only been a matter time before it was discovered.

Thinking back on it Peter knew now that he should have just worn the collar all of the time, then Renner wouldn't have had a chance to change the setting and the passcode. It wouldn't have kept Elizabeth from stealing, but at least she wouldn't have had to have witnessed words of love causing him pain. However it broke Elizabeth's heart to see him wearing it at home and although she would have been capable of taking it off him at night he couldn't ask her to have to put it on him again in the morning. The lock system was coded to a fingerprint so he couldn't take it off himself, if it was already open he could have theoretically put it on himself but he'd never been able to physically or emotionally bring himself to even try to do it on his own.

Shaking off thoughts of the past Peter concentrated on the present. Hoping in someway to slow time and lengthen the time they had together tonight the pair spent a long moment just studying at one another, refamiliarizing themselves with one another's features. Other than a touch of silver streaking her onyx hair Elizabeth appeared untouched to Peter by the hard years that had separated them. If it wasn't for the slight burning that still raked across his back Peter might be able to convince himself that no time or events had passed since he'd last seen her. He knew the years had been harder on him physically, but if Elizabeth noticed any change she didn't make it known. When Peter shifted slightly his gold ringed eyes caught the low light just right causing them to flash reflectively. Elizabeth didn't flinch the way most did when they witnessed the odd phenomenon.

"I love you." Elizabeth whispered, breaking the comfortable silence.

"I love you too."

"I can't believe this is real."

"Neither can I."

"I…I almost didn't come here tonight." Elizabeth admitted.

"I balked at coming here tonight myself and putting you through this all again myself, if you still having second thoughts I under…"

"What? No, Peter, it's not that. It would never be that." Elizabeth assured quickly. "I hesitated because I'd convinced myself that it was too good to be true that you'd be here, that this had to be a trap."

"And you walked into it anyway?" Peter asked in a tone of mock surprise.

"With you as bait?" Elizabeth chuckled. "Of course I did."

Peter smiled, he'd missed Elizabeth's laugh and it was more than he could have hoped for to hear it again. Holding her tighter Peter closed his eyes once more and enjoyed the peace that having her near brought him. Despite the way she could make his heart race at the same time she seemed to never fail to calm his mind, even the stress of being under a new Master had melted away the moment he'd met her. Back with her now erased the pain of the past two years and made every moment's worth of struggle to survive worth while. He still wasn't sure how he was going to tell her about the marks across his shoulders, but he found he couldn't worry about that right now.

Although he felt like he could stand there with his eyes closed and hold Elizabeth forever eventually he had to glance around at his surroundings, just to assure himself that there was no immediate threat. Peter didn't see any immediate dangers in the private setting, but he did see something that worried him. On a near by deep red cheerywood table was a large suitcase. Of all of the fears that Peter had imagined for this encounter this one had been foremost on his mind. He tried to ignore it, but his eye kept being drawn back to it.

"Peter? What's wrong?"

"I see you're already packed." Peter said with a quiet sigh. "Elizabeth, I still can't…"

"That's not mine." Elizabeth said. "It was here when I got here."

Peter furrowed his brow and taking Elizabeth with him he walked over to the large suitcase that was sitting on the table. Every detail of the room had been planed, the suitcase couldn't be an accident and it had been placed in a way so that it would bring attention to itself. There was an unmarked envelope next to it that Peter picked up and opened. Inside was a small note card that held a hand written math equation on it that Peter instantly solved. Ending up with a four digit number Peter looked at the case and saw that it had a small digital keypad along the edge. Tapping the answer to the math problem into the keypad caused it to glow blue and click as the lock released. Opening the case the contents were hidden by a black piece of velvet that had another neatly hand written note card resting on top of it.

"'Fight or Flight?'" Peter read the simple question off the card before recalling Neal's last words to him. "'There is no wrong answer, trust your instincts'."

"Peter?"

Peter didn't reply he just stared at the card emblazoned with the one question that every creature great or small could instantly identify with. The most basic of all the instincts ingrained in anything with a taste for survival was what to do when faced with a threat. The line between life and death was so fine that when the question was asked it was instinct not conscious thought that made the split second decision of what was best: stand and fight, or turn and run. Both strategies could succeed or fail, both held their own risks, both offered their own rewards.

Peter knew better than most that nothing drove a creature to misery and insanity faster than to live under constant threat and be unable to act one way or the other. A lion in a cage could only react to a threat the same way a mouse in the same condition could. Locked away and trapped they were both helpless, however open the doors and you'd quickly discover which one had more fight and which one had more flight in their heart. Feeling that the bars to his cage were about to be removed Peter pulled the cloth away from the contents of the suitcase to discover if he was a lion or a mouse. Elizabeth gasped sharply at the sight that Peter had revealed. Showing off some her own instinct she pressed harder against Peter rather than pulling away from him. A quick scan told Peter there was close to half a million dollars in cash sitting in front of them. A set of car keys and thin black leather binder completed the rare gift.

Reaching out with a bit of a shaky hand Peter flipped open the binder just to confirm what he thought it held. The top sheep was a detailed forgery of Animula registration papers that placed the code that Neal had inked in his arm under the name 'Elizabeth Blank'. Moving the registration to the side showed a new identity kit for Elizabeth with the new surname of 'Blank'. If they accept this gift they would both be on the run for the rest of their lives, but they would have the means to have at least half a chance of success of hiding from the world. Turning her back on the money Elizabeth wrapped her arms around Peter's waist and looked up at him wordlessly. He waited for her to say something, but it was clear that she was looking to him to decide.

"Elizabeth," Peter said after careful consideration "I know this affects us both, but I..."

"You don't want to run." Elizabeth finished for him quietly.

"I'm not going to run." Peter corrected. "As tempting as it is there is no future it in, not for you, not for me…not for any of us. It's a beautiful gesture, but this isn't freedom, at least not in the way I would define it."

"It would just be an illusion." Elizabeth agreed sadly. "Short term and short sighted…even if it lasted the rest of our lives."

"Exactly. I want a future, Elizabeth, a real one. Moe than that: I want one for every Animula."

"That's never going to happen without a fight."

"No, it isn't." Peter carded his hand into Elizabeth's hair and stared into her light blue eyes. "Elizabeth, I love you, more in this moment than any other we've shared. However, this path is going to be very dangerous, probably suicidal, and I can't ask you to fight for me…"

"No, you can't." Elizabeth interrupted firmly. "You don't have any right to ask me to fight for you, but you sure as hell better be about to ask me to fight *with* you."

Peter took a breath to protest that semantics aside he still didn't want her in the thick of what was to come even if she stayed in his life. Before he got a chance to say anything Elizabeth pushed herself up on her toes to engage him in a deep kiss to ensure that he understood that she wasn't going to take 'no' for an answer when it came to letting her be a part of this. Returning the affection gave Peter the time he needed to realize that he was insulting her by asking her to support his decision but not trusting her to stand by his side on it. Breaking off the kiss Peter held Elizabeth out at arm's length so he could look at her. Seeing at the fire in her eyes he realized that he wasn't the only who had come out the other side of the past two years a stronger person.

"Elizabeth, will you fight with me?"

"I thought you'd never ask." Elizabeth smiled.

"Is that a 'yes'?" Peter teased.

"No, but this is…"

Peter chuckled as Elizabeth pulled him into another kiss. Elizabeth yelped in surprised as Peter suddenly swooped down to put one arm behind her knees so that he could lifted her up into his arms. Throwing her arms around his neck Elizabeth held on tight as Peter carried her over towards the glass doors that lead out onto the balcony. A button that he hit with his elbow automatically slid the doors open and he took her out onto the deck that held a breathtaking view of Central Park that stretched out far below them. Peter put Elizabeth down and looked out over the human city that he found he was proud to call home. He didn't have search the skyline to find the Market, he knew right where it was. Elizabeth was looking the Market with a look that told him she might just burn it down literally if she couldn't manage to take it down figuratively. He drew her attention back to him by gently brushing her cheek. Staring at her Peter was more sure than ever that he was making the right decision.

"Peter?"

"Elizabeth, before we start this war I need to kneel down for a human one last time."

"Wha…"

Elizabeth stopped and flushed a bright pink as Peter took her hands and got down on one knee. With her eyes instantly brightening with tears again Elizabeth smiled like a teenager being asked to prom by her crush at the romantic gesture. Fighting tears himself Peter took a somewhat nervous sounding breath before smiling up at her and finding his voice.

"Will you marry me…again?"

"Yes…as many times as you ask."


	50. Chapter 50

Epilogue

Standing next to floor to ceiling window Neal stared out at the city, specifically at the golden spires of the Market that were lit up with their distinctive pattern of decorative lights. It hadn't taken long for the other members of the mock party to take the hint that Neal was not in the mood for small talk as they formed little groups amongst themselves leaving Neal separated from the others. Motion caught the corner of his eye and he was able to snatch a martini off a silver tray as the waiter stepped past him on his way towards a clump of other guests.

Neal turned back to the window as he became lost in thought again. As confident as he had been when he first left the money on the penthouse floor he started to have doubts as to what the outcome would be. Peter had made his life infinitely more complicated, and he would only continue to do so if he stayed. Still in the face of never seeing him again Neal found himself with a heavy heart. He wanted to think that he knew what Peter would do, but it was hard to predict how anyone would react when faced with that amount of raw cash and a chance at a painless life, let alone judge what someone in Peter's position and past would do.

He wouldn't blame Peter if he left, he would even be happy for him. Neal just wasn't sure what kind of life he'd go back to himself if he didn't have the Animula there to remind him that there was more out there than just the thrill of the con. He hated to admit it but he wasn't sure if he was willing to fight a system for someone who wasn't willing to fight it himself even though Peter was just one of the many souls who needed saving.

Unable to do anything about his next steps until he learned what Peter decided Neal just stood alone and waited. Neal was not really used to worrying about his future, but the fact that someone else was making a decision right now that was going to severely effect it while he just stood by was more than enough to make him feel like he needed the drink in his hand. In an attempt to calm his nerves Neal knocked back the top shelf gin and vermouth mixture like it was a shot of whiskey.

"Have you learn nothing from all this about drinking at parties?"

"Mozzie," Neal smiled as he turned to face his friend "I didn't think you'd come."

"Where is Peter?" Mozzie asked looking around nervously.

"He's upstairs with Elizabeth."

"Along with a million in liquidated art?"

"I only got 450 for it." Neal admitted. "Short notice sales are harder."

"Neal, what are you doing?"

"You know exactly what I'm doing."

"I suppose I do." Mozzie shook his head sadly. "What if he actually takes it?"

"He has ever right to that's why it's called a gift. Besides, I would think you'd want him to. He wouldn't be your problem anymore."

"Yeah, but you'd still be my problem and I hate having to pick up the pieces when you get your heart broken."

"Peter's not going to break my heart." Neal assured, finding that now that he'd said it out loud he truly believed it.

"Neal, I know you two have become friends, he's the first person you've let anywhere near you since…well, since Kate. You're going to be hurt if he takes off tonight."

"You're right, I would be."

"So why did you do it?"

"Firstly because Peter deserves the chance to decide his own future for a change. I don't want him staying just because he depends on me. He's my friend, not my pet."

"I told you that you'd make a terrible Master."

"I still take that as a compliment." Neal gave Mozzie a shallow bow.

"And I still say you're crazy." Mozzie rolled his eyes. "You had a firstly, I assume you at least have a secondly?"

"Peter's not going to run and hide." Neal replied confidently. "If his instinct was to run he would have done so a long time ago. Peter's a fighter, he wouldn't have gotten this far if he wasn't. I have faith in him."

"Still…that's a four hundred fifty thousand dollar gamble."

"It's not a gamble, Mozzie." Neal said seriously. "The money is gone either way."

"Earmarked for a 'special project'?"

"Either to help one or try and help them all." Neal confirmed.

"Neal Caffrey is going to change the world?" Mozzie asked doubtfully.

"Certainly not on my own." Neal looked to Mozzie hopefully.

Not taking the bait on declaring if he'd help or not Mozzie just glanced around the risky high profile party that had cost a substantial amount of money to put together and had no monetary profits to show for it. Sighing heavily he muttered something about knowing from the start that Peter was going to be trouble. Neal knew that Mozzie did not like change and adding Peter to his life was tantamount to turning his entire world upside down. However he also knew Mozzie would be there to help them both in the days to come even if he complained about it the entire time. He was gentle at heart and now that he'd seen what the Animula truly were he might not be willing to lead a charge to change things, but he certainly wouldn't walk away either. Despite that Neal was still surprised to see him here tonight, he'd already warned him how angry Peter was with him over the breech in privacy despite how it worked out in the end.

"Why did you really come here tonight?" Neal asked. "I know it wasn't to talk to me about a sale that it was too late to change my mind on."

Mozzie flashed Neal a look that he usually reserved for when he was begrudgingly doing something for Neal against his own special brand of better judgement. After looking around to make sure no one was paying attention to them Mozzie wordlessly pulled a two by three inch white envelope out of his pocket and offered it to Neal.

"What's this?"

"It wasn't easy to get, I could have gotten into CIA database easier than this." Mozzie complained rather than answered. "I burned a good alias, cashed in absolutely ever favor I had left, and owe some on top of that now, but I found it and it's real."

Feeling more than a touch nervous Neal took the tiny envelope from Mozzie, his friend only talked this fast when he was uncomfortable with something. As good as Mozzie's intentions tended to be the last time he went off and did something without being asked he almost ruined Neal and Peter's hard won friendship. Neal turned the unmarked envelope over in his hands and went to unseal it.

"No, don't open it." Mozzie requested. "Give it to Peter."

"What is it?"

"It's his last name."


	51. Animula: Birthright

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...this isn't an additional epilogue or anything like that. If anything it's a 'pre-quel' I suppose. I felt it was best to add it on the end here so that Animula readers would know it existed (I'm not sure how many people watch the story vs watch me). 
> 
> I will be taking a break from this AU and returning with a sequel. Hugs!

Animula: Birthright

_New York, New York. August 25th, 1963_

"I…I can't do this."

"Everything is going to be okay, Mary."

"How can you say that?"

"Because I love you."

Trying to hide her tears Mary buried her face against her husband's chest, the motion was made awkward by her large rounded stomach. Sitting on a small leather couch next to her David ran his hand gently between her shoulderblades to try and sooth her. He stared out the large glass window in front of them that looked out over the massive city. Born and raised upstate they had both always wanted to visit the heart of Manhattan, but neither one of them had until today. Looking out across the forest of buildings from a hundred stories up gave David an odd feeling of claustro and agoraphobia mixed together as the dazzling open air view was mixed with the feeling of being trapped in the gold gilded tower of the Market.

Technically they were free to leave any time, but until they concluded their business here they were effectively prisoners. They had an appointment for one o'clock, but something had delayed it and now they were being forced to wait. They'd had months to think about this moment, but somehow it hadn't seemed real until now. Mary was two days away from her official due date but the Market had insisted that they come to the city before hand so that they could induce the labor and ensure that everything went smoothly. So far things weren't going smoothly at all and the longer they had to wait the harder it was becoming to justify what was happening.

Mary pulled away from David with a sharp gasp as she wrapped her arm over her stomach. The closer she got to term the more it upset her to feel any kind of movement from their unborn creature. When they had first learned that there was something wrong with the pregnancy it had been too early to feel anything, she had just started to show a belly at the time. The doctor had a Market representative on the scene when he broke the news to them and before they could even think about what was happening let alone weigh the options they'd signed a contract for the future of their unborn Animula.

"I don't want to be here."

"I know, Hon, neither do I."

"I just want to take my baby boy home."

"Mary, we talked about this, he's not…"

"He's alive, David, I can feel him kick."

"No one said he isn't alive, but he doesn't have a…" David stopped as emotion caught his voice for a moment. "It's not human."

"Don't say 'it', please. You know I hate that."

"I'm sorry, I just…" David stopped and dragged his hands through his hair in frustration, they had had this argument too many times before.

"This day came too soon," Mary whimpered "I don't want to lose him today."

"We lost him the day the test results came back."

"We should have never taken it."

"That wouldn't have changed what he is." David said firmly. "It would have just been harder on us both to learn after he was born that he doesn't cry. At least this way we've had time to prepare for this."

"I'm not ready."

"You never will be ready, but in time you will get past it." David reached up and brushed Mary's tear stained cheek. "We just need to get through today."

Mary nodded vacantly, but he could see how heavily the grief weighed on her. David had thought about taking Mary to a less reputable doctor after they got the news and just end things before they got too far along, but he realized that it would be just as traumatic for her and at least this way the money could help them with a new life. When it came down to it they could barely afford themselves right now and he had wondered how they were going to support a child before he'd learned that they weren't going to get that chance.

"This is what is best." David said as much to comfort himself as his wife.

"I know." Mary agreed half heartedly "…at least that's what I keep trying to tell myself."

"The Market is where he needs to be." David said with forced confidence. "We wouldn't even know how to raise him, and we certainly couldn't offer him anything more than what he will get here. This way he will be cared for by people who understand what he is and what he needs. In a lot of ways he has a brighter future than most. He will never go hungry, he will always have a roof over his head, he will never have to worry about caring for himself, he will live in the luxury of the upper class where he will be valued and protected his entire life. He'll never know anything of the hardships and the heartbreak that the rest of us face everyday."

"He'll also never know love."

"Nothing can change that."

"David…"

"He's Animula, he's not capable of it or any emotion for that matter." David said darkly. "He is not human, he can not love."

"…that doesn't mean we couldn't love him."

Narrowing his eyes David's jaw tightened as he fought tears by turning to anger instead. He told himself she was being foolish thinking that any good could come from loving something that couldn't love her in return. It would be insane to even try. They could not afford to keep an Animula, it would ruin them financially and socially. Mary could feel the change in his mood from sharing her pain to resenting it and it added to her own nervous energy. She jolted as the tiny life she was carrying seemed to sense her increased anxiety and kicked at her. David jerked as well at her movement showing how on edge he was.

"There has to be another way." Mary said quietly. "Maybe, maybe there was a mistake, the test could have been wrong. What if…"

"No," David interrupted icily "there was no mistake."

"How can you be so sure?"

"You think this is easy for me?" David demanded as his temper flared. "You think I don't know that this is *my* fault?!"

"I never said it was your fault."

"Animula are only ever male…so he must have gotten it from me." David closed his eyes when tears spilt down his face as his brush with anger was instantly lost to grief. "Maybe I'm not good enough, maybe I have taken my own soul for granted too many times. Whatever I did, I'm sorry, I never wanted to hurt you like this...please forgive me."

"No, I can't forgive you because I don't blame you." Mary took David's hand in her own and held it tight. "No one is to blame, you're a loving husband, you would be a loving father. This can't be about good and evil. We didn't do anything to deserve this."

"Neither did he."

Knowing her husband was right Mary broke down once again at the hopelessness of their situation. David gathered her in his arms as best he could and held her close while she cried. He had told her that they just needed to get through today, but he doubted tomorrow was going to be any better. He'd seen what the loss of a child could do. When he was eight years old his mother had become pregnant with what should have been his baby brother. It had been exciting at first as they talked about adding a new member to their family. However after a few months she had become more reclusive from him and refused to talk about his unborn brother. In the last week of the pregnancy she had left and he didn't see her again for nearly a month. His father told him that she had gotten sick and that she had lost the baby and that she needed some time alone to recover. She had survived, and returned home but she had never really been the same, there was a hollowness in her heart that she couldn't hide.

Growing up David hadn't thought too much about the brother he never got to meet. The fact that his parents had money magically 'saved away' to pay for his college in full hadn't really bothered him at the time. However since learning about his own son David had been obsessing more and more about if his younger sibling had really died at birth or if Animula was a curse that ran in his family. His parents had died a few years ago and in a way David was grateful that his mother didn't have to lose a grandchild to Animula as well if his suspicions were true.

"We can't do this." Mary whispered suddenly. "We can't sell our son."

"We have to."

"We don't have to take the money." Mary said in a pleading tone. "David, please, I know we need it, but I don't want it, I can't, please…I…I know we can't keep him, but I can't bear the thought of selling him."

"Then we won't." David assured as he pulled her closer. "We'll be fine without the money, in fact we'll be better without it."

Mary was still trembling from the stress but she nuzzled against him, finding strength in his support. He had never really wanted the money either, he just hadn't known how to approach the subject feeling that she deserved something for her suffering. Becoming somewhat numb to the turmoil of the events David just stared blankly out the window. It felt like days passed before a nurse with a clipboard came into the room from the door on the far side. She didn't approach the couple, she waited by the door for them to look over at her. Mary buried her face deeper in David's shirt at first, but eventually she looked over at the nurse.

"Thank you for waiting." She greeted warmly. "We're ready now. Please come with me."

Mary looked to David with a desperate expression that broke his heart as she silently asked for another option. He shook his head sadly which caused her to lose the last shred of hope that she'd been clinging to. David slowly got to his feet and helped her do the same. He wanted to reach out and touch her stomach, he wanted to say good-bye to the life she carried, but he didn't. Knowing he had to be strong for her David silently stood by her side.

After taking a moment to find her courage Mary stepped away from her husband who was expected to stay in the waiting area, but she stopped short of joining the nurse. The nurse flashed Mary sympathetic smile before opening the door and silently encouraging her to follow her through. Putting her hands on her distended stomach Mary bowed her head in defeat with a miserable sigh as she stepped forward.

"Mrs. Burke?" The nurse asked in concern.

"I'm sorry." Mary whispered. "I'm so sorry."

"It's okay, I know this is hard. You don't have to apologize to me."

"I wasn't talking to you."


End file.
